IILOR'S  COMPANION 


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THE 


SAILOR'S  COMPANION 


SELECTED   AND   ARRANQED 


nr 

J.    K.    DAVIS. 

OBAFLAIlf    AT    TROT,     NKW     TOES. 


"  And  them  Solomon,  my  son,  know  thou  the  God  of  thy  father,  and 
serve  him  with  a  perfect  heart,  and  with  a  willing  mind  ;  for  the  Ix>r«i 
tearcheth  all  hearts,  and  understandeth  all  the  imagina.'ions  of  the 
thoughts ;  if  thou  seek  him  he  will  be  found  of  thee ;  but  if  thoa  for 
Bftka  him,  he  will  cast  thee  off  forever." — 1  CHRONICLKS,  28,  'JA. 


NEW  YORK: 

ROBERT  CARTER   &   BROTHERS. 
BSD    BRO  A  nw  A  Y 

1804. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  ihe  yeai  1620, 

BY  ROBERT  CARTER, 

h.  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  lor  the  Southern  District  tt 
Vew  iork. 


•TKIHOTYFKD  Bt 

B  i  1. 1 .  i  N  &   ni:o's 
10  North  William-tt 


CONTENTS 


Extracts  frt  m  Persuasives  to  Early  Piety,           .         ,  5 
A  sea  Infidel  converted,        ..... 

The  Seamen's  Cause,           .....  47 

A  pious  Captain's  Prayer  and  Reflections  at  Sea,  48 

Worship  at  Sea, 51 

The  Way  to  be  Saved, 57 

The  Case  of  Seamen, 63 

A  Blasphemer  Converted,             .....  69 

Vice  Progressive,         .                 73 

The  Aged  Sailor  entering  the  Harbor,         ...  78 

Bethel  Summaries.       ........  81 

The  Sabbath  at  Sea,            .."....  85 

She  being  Dead  yet  Speaketh,              ....  88 

Madness  from  Strong  Drink, 90 

Who  Slew  all  These  1 91 

Intemperance  among  Seamen, 93 

Navy 94 

The  Carter  of  Dundee, 95 

Sanctification  of  the  Sabbath,      .....  100 

Religion  in  Ships,        .......  106 

Conversion  of  the  Rev  Joseph  Eastburn               .        .  110 
His  Preaching  to  Sailors,     .         .        .         .        .         .112 

His  Death.           ...                 ....  113 

The  Life- Buoy  of  *he  Soul, 117 

Incidents  in  a  Sailor's  Life1,  123,  129,  134, 140, 146, 153,  159 

The  Prisoner's  Address  to  his  Mother,         .         .         .  165 

The  Sailor  Kneeling  by  his  Chest 167 

Extracts  from  ».  Captain's  Diary,         .         .        .         .168 
The  First  Bethel  on  the  Lakes,  .  .171 

A  Christian, .        .  ITSl 


THE  SAILOR'S  COMPANION, 

EXTRACTS  FROM  PERSUASIVES  TO  EARLY  PIETY, 

BY    REV.    J.    G.    PIKE. 

"  MY  young  friend,  if  a  person  could  rise  from 
the  dead  to  speak  to  you ;  could  come  from  the 
other  world  to  tell  you  what  he  had  seen  there, 
how  attentively  would  you  listen  to  his  discourse, 
and  how  much  would  you  be  affected  by  it!  Yet 
a  messenger  from  the  dead  could  not  tell  you  more 
important  things  than  those  to  which  I  now  be- 
seech your  attention.  I  come  to  entreat  you  to 
give  your  heart  to  God ;  to  follow  the  divine  Sav- 
iour now ;  and  to  walk  in  the  pleasant  paths  of 
early  piety.  0  that  I  could,  with  all  the  fervor 
of  a  dying  man,  beseech  you  to  attend  to  your  only 
great  concerns  !  for  of  how  little  consequence  is 
this  poor  transient  world  to  you.  who  have  an  eter- 
nal world  to  mind  !  It  is  not  to  a  trifle  that  I  call 
your  attention,  but  to  your  life,  your  all.  your  eter- 
nal all,  your  God,  your  Saviour,  your  heaven,  your 
every  thing  that  is  worth  a  thought  or  a  wish.  Do 
not  let  a  stranger  be  more  anxious  than  Yourself 
for  your  eternal  welfare.  If  you  have  been  thought- 
less hitherto,  be  serious  now.  It  is  time  you  were 
SO.  You  have  wasted  years  enough.  Think  of 


R  INTRODUCTORY    ADDRESS*. 

Sir  Francis  Walsingham's  words  :  '  While  we  laugl 
all  things  are  serious  around  us.  God  is  serious, 
who  preserves  us ;  Christ  is  serious,  who  shed  his 
blood  for  us  ;  the  Holy  Spirit  is  serious,  when  he 
strives  with  us  ;  the  whole  creation  is  serious  in 
serving  God  and  us ;  all  are  serious  in  another 
world  ;  how  suitable  then  is  it  for  man  to  be  seri- 
ous !  and  how  can  we  be  gay  and  trifling  ?' i; 

"  Do  you  smile  at  this  grave  address,  and  say, 
This  is  the  cant  of  enthusiasm?  0,  think,  that 
those  who  laughed  at  these  solemn  truths  when 
the  last  hundred  years  began,  now  laugh  no  more ! 
The  friendly  warning  may  be  neglected,  and  the 
truths  of  the  Bible  disbelieved ;  but  death  and 
eternity  will  soon  force  on  the  most  careless  heart, 
a  deep  conviction,  that  religion  is  the  one  thing 
needful. 

"  Yes,  my  young  friend,  one  thing  is  needful ;  so 
said  the  Lord  of  life  :  needful  to  you,  to  me,  to  all. 
The  living  neglect  it,  but  the  dead  know  its  value. 
Every  saint  in  heaven  feels  the  worth  of  religion 
through  partaking  of  the  blessings  to  which  it 
leads  ;  and  every  soul  in  hell  knows  its  value  by 
its  want.  It  is  only  on  earth  that  triflers  arc  to 
be  found  ;  and  will  you  be  one  of  them  ?  God 
forbid ! 

"  Reader,  I  beseech  you,  read  this  little  book  with 
•erious  prayer.  Remember  that  it  is  your  welfare 
which  is  sought.  I  wish  you  to  be  happy  here,  aud 
when  time  is  past,  happy  forever.  Fain  would  I 
persuade  you  to  seek  a  refuge  in  the  skies,  and 
friends  that  never  fail.  I  plead  with  you  a  more 
important  cause  than  was  ever  conducted  before 
an  earthly  judge.  Not  one  which  concerns  time 
only  ;  but  which  concerns  a  long  eternity.  Not 
one  on  which  a  little  wealth  or  reputation  do- 


INTRODUCTORY   ADDRESS.  7 

pends  ;  but  one  on  which  eternal  poverty  or  eter- 
nal riches,  eternal  glory  or  eternal  shame,  a  smiling 
or  a  frowning  God,  an  eternal  heaven,  or  an  eter- 
nal hell,  are  all  depending.  And  it  is  your  cause 
I  plead,  and  not  my  own  ;  and  shall  I  plead  your 
tause  to  yourself  in  vain  ? 

"  I  know,  my  young  friend,  how  apt  we  are  to  read 
the  most  serious  calls  as  if  they  were  mere  formal 
things,  of  little  more  consequence  to  us  than  the 
trifles  recorded  in  a  newspaper.  But  do  not  thus 
read  this  little  book.  Believe  me,  I  am  in  earnest 
with  you  ;  and  read,  I  entreat  you,  what  follows,  as 
a  serious  message  which  I  have  from  God  for  you 

"  Consider  what  will  be  your  thoughts  of  the  ad- 
vice here  given  you  a  hundred  years  hence.  Long 
before  that  time,  you  will  have  done  with  this  world 
forever.  Then  your  now  vigorous  and  youthful 
body  will  be  turned  to  dust,  and  your  name  prob- 
ably forgotten  upon  earth  ;  yet  your  immortal  soul 
will  be  living  in  another  world,  and  far  more  sen- 
sible of  joy  or  grief,  than  it  can  possibly  be  now. 

"  Then,  my  young  friend,  you  will  think  of  this 
friendly  warning ;  how  happy  you  will  be  if  you 
have  followed  the  advice  it  contains !  Fancy  not 
that  it  will  be  then  forgotten.  Calls  and  mercies 
forgotten  here,  must  be  remembered  there,  when 
every  sin  is  brought  to  the  sinner's  memory.  If 
now  you  think  me  over-earnest,  you  wi.l  not  then 
entertain  the  same  opinion.  If  now  you  slight 
this  humble  effort  for  promoting  your  salvation, 
and  carelessly  or  contemptuously  throw  this  book 
aside,  if  then  ten  thousand  worlds  were  yours,  they 
would  appear  a  trifle,  for  another  season  of  salva- 
tion, like  that  you  now  enjoy,  and  which,  perhaps, 
you  now  waste.  But  now  is  your  day  of  grace  j 
then,  another  geueratku  will  have  theirs. 


INTRODUCTORY 

"  Think  again,  that  while  you  are  reading  this, 
thousands  are  rejoicing  in  heaven,  that  they,  in 
past  years,  attended  to  such  earnest  calls.  Onee 
they  were  as  careless  as  you  may  have  teen,  but 
divine  grace  disposed  them  to  listen  to  the  word 
of  life.  They  regarded  the  warnings  addressed  to 
them  :  they  found  salvation  ;  they  are  gone  to  rest ; 
and  now  with  what  pleasure  they  may  recall  the 
fervent  sermon,  or  the  little  book,  that  under  God 
first  awakened  their  attention,  and  first  impressed 
their  hearts  !  Think  also,  that  while  you  are  read- 
ing these  lines,  millions  of  wretched  souls,  in  utter 
darkness  and  despair,  are  cursing  that  desperate 
madness  which  led  them  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  such 
friendly  warnings,  once  addressed  to  them.  0  my 
young  friend,  I  beseech  you,  by  the  joys  of  saints 
in  heaven,  and  the  ten  thousand  sinners  in  hell, 
trifle  no  longer  with  this  affectionate  call !  Did 
we  feel  the  thousandth  part  of  the  worth  of  an  im- 
nortal  soul,  I  might  abhor  myself  for  writing  so 
Joldly  ;  and  you  blush  and  be  confounded,  at  hav- 
ing needed  warning  to  seek  its  welfare.  It  is  im- 
possible to  be  earnest  enough  with  you:  if  you 
ever  know  the  worth  of  true  piety,  you  will  be 
convinced  that  it  is.  Did  we  see  thousands  asleep 
on  the  brink  of  a  precipice,  and  some  every  mo- 
ment falling  and  dying,  could  we  too  earnestly  en- 
deavor to  awaken  those  not  yet  undone?  0  my 
young  friend,  if  you  have  been  a  careless  triflei 
with  the  Gospel  of  Christ,  danger  infinitely  worsej 
eternal  danger  threatens  you  !  Awake,  awake ' 
I  beseech  you,  awake  before  it  is  too  late !  beforo 
eternity  seals  your  doom !  before  God  forgets  to 
be  gracious !  Awake !  as  in  the  sight  of  God  I 
call  on  you,  awake !  close  not  your  eyes  to  sleep  i» 
bin  again !  Lest 


PRAYER    OF    THE    READER. 

You  should  shortly  feel 
The  sle;per  sleeps  no  more  in  hell. 

Awake  !  I  beseech  you,  and  begin  to  inind  thai 
«ne  thing,  which  is  so  needful  to  yon.  Perhaps 
all  I  urge  to  gain  your  attention  is  urged  in  vain. 
And  shall  it  be  so  ?  Will  you  slight  your  God, 
and  make  your  own  destruction  sure  ?  Alas !  if 
you  will,  what  must  be  your  condition  soon  1  13ut 
let  me  hope  better  of  you,  and  offer  you  one  re- 
quest :  look  up  to  God,  in  the  following  prayer, 
and  beg  his  mercy  on  your  precious  arid  immortal 
soul. 

"  Great  God,  thou  seest  me,  a,  young  and  thought- 
less creature.  Young  as  I  am  in  years,  yet  far 
have  I  gone  in  sin.  So  far  that  thou  mightest 
justly  have  said  with  respect  to  me,  '  Cut  down 
that  cumberer  of  the  ground  ;'  and  had  that  dread- 
ful sentence  been  long  ago  pronounced  and  exe- 
cuted, I  must  have  owned  it  just.  My  years  are 
few,  but  my  sins  are  many  ;  more  numerous  are 
they  than  my  days  or  hours ; — more  countless 
than  the  hairs  of  my  head.  Alas !  blessed  God, 
what  a  part  have  I  acted  !  I  have  received  life 
from*  thee.  and  employed  it  in  neglecting  and  sin- 
ning against  thee.  I  might  have  died  at  my  birth, 
have  seen  the  light  and  closed  my  eyes  in  death, 
but  thou  didst  watch  over  me  in  infancy,  didst 
guard  me  in  childhood,  and  hast  brought  me  to 
the  blooming  days  of  youth ;  and  how  have  I  re- 
quited thee  ?  Wretch  that  I  have  been,  to  requite 
thy  love  with  ingratitude,  thy  goodness  with  neg- 
lect. Distracted  creature  that  I  have  been,  to 
spend  the  flower  of  my  years  in  grieving  thee,  my 
best  friend ;  in  pleasing  Satan,  my  infernal  foe , 
and  in  undoing  my  own  immortal  soul.  0,  make 


10  THE    FALLEN    SI  ATE    OF    MAlf. 

me  sensible  of  my  sin  ;  teach  me  to  bewail  and 
loathe  my  folly,  and  help  me  to  forsake  it !'  Now 
let  me  begin  to  live  that  life,  which,  on  a  dying 
bed,  I  shall  wish  to  have  lived.  Pour  out  thy 
Spirit  on  me,  for  he  alone  can  teach  me  what  thott 
art.  Give  me  to  thy  Son,  and  thy  Son  to  me. 
Teach  me  to  regard  the  truths  I  read.  May  the 
persuasives  and  motives  here  presented  to  me. 
reach  my  heart,  and  may  I  be  no  longer  the 
thoughtless  creature  I  have  hitherto  been ;  but 
may  I  choose  that  good  part  which  shall  never  be 
taken  away  from  me.  Teach  me  what  I  am,  and 
lead  me  to  Jesus  Christ,  thy  once  crucified,  but 
now  exalted  Son.  0.  make  me  thine !  O  Saviour, 
make  me  thine  !  0  God  of  glory,  make  me  thine 
without  delay,  and  teach  me  all  thy  will !  Then, 
whatever  be  the  instrument  that  awakens  my  soul, 
thine  shall  be  the  praise,  for  it  is  thy  work,  and 
the  glory  is  justly  thine.  Hear  me,  0  thou  most 
merciful  Father,  and  wash  my  sins  away  in  aton- 
ing blood ;  hear  me,  and  let  my  youth  from  this 
day  be  devoted  to  thee ;  hear  me  for  the  sake  of 
thy  beloved  Son  :  and  now  to  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Ghost,  as  to  the  King  eternal,  immortal,  in- 
visible, the  only  wise  God,  be  glory  and  dominion 
world  without  end.  Amen." 


THE  FALLEN,  GUILTY,  AND  RUINED  STATE 

OF  MAN. 

"  1  now,  my  young  friend,  address  you  on  a  sub 
jcct  unspeakably  important ;  as  no  hope  can  b» 
entertained  of  doing  you  lasting  good,  till  you  feel 
the  truth  of  the  statement  just  repeated.  In  ref- 
erence to  bodily  disorders  it  is  said,  that  to  know 


THE    FALLEN    STATE    OF    MAN.  11 

your  disease  is  half  the  cure.  The  same  observe 
lion  will  apply  to  the  disorders  of  the  soul.  If 
one  deeply  infected  with  a  fever,  or  the  plague, 
were  so  deluded,  as  to  believe  himself  enjoying 
perfect  health,  or  to  think  himself  at  worst,  but 
slightly  disordered,  and  therefore  to  neglect  the 
means  for  restoring  health,  how  soon  would  death 
and  the  grave  convince  him  of  his  sad  mistake ! 
Such  delusion  is  seldom  met  with ;  but  an  infi- 
nitely more  dreadful  delusion  is  as  common  as  the 
light  of  day.  Perhaps  you  labor  under  its  influ- 
ence. Perhaps,  if  your  life  has  been  unstained  by 
flagrant  enormities,  you  imagine  yourself  a  good- 
hearted  young  man.  Your  sins  are  softened  down 
under  the  name  of  youthful  follies.  The  deep 
corruption  of  your  nature  is  totally  hidden  from 
your  view.  You  are  in  danger  of  dying  eternally 
of  the  worst  of  plagues,  and  yet  think  that  all  is 
•well.  You  are  exposed  to  the  wrath  of  a  justly 
JFended  God,  and  saying  to  yourself,  '  Peace, 
peace.' 

"  God  forbid  that  I  should  represent  your  state, 
by  nature,  as  worse  than  he  describes  it  in  his 
word. 

"  Be  patient,  then,  and  hear  the  worst.  What 
are  you?  If  guided  by  the  opinions  of  a  poor, 
blind  world,  you  might  reply,  '  A  frail,  imperfect 
creature,  guilty  of  some  sins,  but  yet,  with  so  many 
good  dispositions  and  good  actions  to  counterbal- 
ance them,  that  I  may  reasonably  hope  for  happi- 
ness and  heaven.'  My  dear  young  friend,  are  these, 
or  such  as  these,  your  view  of  yourself?  If  they 
be.  no  wretched  madman,  bound  with  chains,  crown- 
ing himself  with  straw,  and  imagining  himself  a 
nughty  and  happy  monarch,  was  ever  more  de- 
ceived. I  repeat  the  question, — What  are  youl 


12  THE    FALLEN   STATE   OF   MAN 

Let  the  word  of  the  God  of  truth  reply.  And 
what  is  its  answer  ?  It  teaches  you  that  you  are 
corrupt,  and  polluted,  and  at  variance  with  God  ; 
having  all  the  powers  of  your  soul  disordered  ;  and 
exposed,  justly  exposed,  to  everlasting  ruin ;  and 
so  entirely  depraved  and  undone,  that  without  a 
change  as  great  as  a  second  birth,  you  cannot  pos- 
sibly see  the  kingdom  of  God. 

"  Perhaps  you  exclaim,  '  Shocking  doctrine  !' 
whilst  full  of  indignation,  you  are  almost  ready  to 
throw  this  book  aside,  before  you  have  looked  at» 
the  proofs  afforded  in  scripture  for  these  assertions. 
If  this  be  the  case,  I  beseech  you  remember  I  ap- 
peal to  scripture,  not  to  your  passions ;  to  the  dec- 
larations of  God,  not  to  worldly  delusions.  Yoo 
may  cry  out  at  the  sight  of  a  shroud,  a  coffin,  a 
grave,  'Shocking  objects!'  but  your  loudest  excla- 
mations will  not  lessen  the  awful  realities,  by  which 
many  have  happily  been  shocked  into  a  timely  pre- 
paration for  approaching  death. 

"  The  word  of  God  assures  us,  that  every  human 
being  is  born  into  this  world  with  a  corrupt  ana 
sinful  nature  God  formed  man  '  in  his  own  im- 
age,' innocent  and  holy ;  but  fallen  man  begat  a 
son  :  in  his  own  likeness,'  corrupt  and  fallen,  like 
himself.  The  consequence  is,  man  comes  into  this 
world  with  a  sinful  nature  ;  for  '  who  can  bring  a 
clean  thing  out  of  an  unclean?  not  one.'  Such  is 
the  exceeding  sinfulness  of  human  nature,  that  the 
word  of  God  strongly  describes  it,  by  declaring  that 
we  are  '  shapen  in  iniquity  and  conceived  in  sin. 
'  Man  is  a  transgressor  from  the  womb,  and  goes 
astray  speaking  lies.'  The  devil  is  elsewhere  called 
the  father  of  lies ;  and  one  of  the  earliest  tokens 
"of  human  depravity  is,  that  a  disposition  to  commit 
that  abominable  sin  so  soon  appears  in  little  ohil 


THK    FALLEN    STATE    OF    MAN.  13 

dren. — Man  is  born  untamed  and  rude  as  a  '  wild 
ass's  colt.'  '  Foolishness  is  bound  up  even  in  the 
heart  of  a  child.'  '  The  imagination  of  man's  heart 
is  evil  from  his  youth,'  '  is  only  -evil  continually  ;' 
'  he  is  abominable  and  filthy,  and  drinketh  in  ini- 
quity like  water.'  As  he  advances  in  life,  do  his 
corruptions  weaken  ?  The  words  of  the  apostle 
answer,  No  :  '  We  ourselves,  also,  were  sometimes 
foolish,  disobedient,  deceived,  serving  divers  lusts 
and  pleasures,  living  in  malice  and  envy,  hateful 
and  hating  one  another.'  " 

This  sinfulness  of  our  nature,  my  young  friend, 
is  not  partial ;  it  is  not  confined  to  some  of  your 
powers  and  faculties ;  but,  like  a  mortal  poison, 
spreads  through  and  pollutes  the  whole.  The 
heart,  which  should  be  the  best  part  of  man,  is  now 
the  worst.  "  The  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked."  Such  are  the  windings 
of  its  corruption,  that  no  eye  but  Jehovah's  can 
trace  them  out.  It  is  full  of  evil ;  not  merely 
tainted  but  filled  with  sin  ;  and  "madness  dwells 
in  it."  The  eyes,  the  ears,  the  hands,  the  feet,  the 
lips,  are  all  defiled  by  different  sins ;  and  the 
tongue,  that  member  which  was  formed  peculiarly 
for  its  Creator's  praise,  "is  now  a  world  of  iniquity; 
and  is  set  on  fire  of  hell." 

"  Man  is  not  only  so  extremely  sinful  that  he 
cannot  please  God,  but  so  blind  that  he  is  entirely 
ignorant  of  what  is  accceptable  in  his  Maker's  sight. 
So  awful  is  this  blindness,  that  the  'the  natural  man 
receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  Hod,  for 
they  are  foolishness  unto  him.'  Even  the  'preach- 
ing of  the  cross  itself  is  to  them  that  perish,  fool- 
ish i:ess.'  And  so  wilful,  that  '  men  love  darkness 
rather  than  light,  because  their  deeds  are  evil  ; 
and  proceeding  in  their  career  of  madness,  '  foola 
9 


14  THE    FALLE1V    &I;i.TE    OF   MAN. 

make  a  mock  at  sin.'  Is  it  possible.  1113  young 
friend,  to  give  a  sadder  representation  of  the  nat 
ural  blindness  of  the  heart  than  these  passages 
give  ?  Sin,  which  God  declares  to  be  the  cause  of 
misery,  death,  and  hell,  men  treat  as  a  matter  of 
foolish  ridicule  and  mad  laughter  ;  while  that  glo- 
rious plan  of  salvation  which  so  magnifies  the  wis- 
dom and  love  of  God  that  it  astonishes  the  angela 
of  heaven, — even  this  is  folly  in  view  of  poor  un- 
converted men.  The  man  who  should  laugh  at  a 
thousand  swords  aimed  at  his  defenceless  head,  or 
pointed  at  his  naked  breast,  were  wiser  than  he  who 
laughs  at  sin.  Less  foolish  were  the  wretch  who 
should  treat  as  folly,  a  plan  to  deliver  him  from  the 
condemned  cell* the  halter,  the  gibbet,  or  the  fire, 
than  he  who  thus  treats  the  wondrous  plan  which 
God  has  devised,  to  save  him  from  the  flames  of 
hell. 

"  It  is  written,  the  '  carnal  mind  is  enmity  against 
God.'  A  more  awful  description  of  fallen  man 
cvnnot  be  given,  than  that  contained  in  these  few 
words.  The  carnal  mind  is  strictly  the  earthly 
and  sensual  mind ;  that  which  the  moral  and  the 
profligate  alike  possess,  while  loving  the  world  and 
the  things  of -the  world.  The  miser,  as  well  as  the 
spendthrift ;  the  pleasing  young  man  that  is  fol- 
lowing earthly  objects  with  all  his  heart ;  the  en- 
gaging young  woman  whose  thoughts  are  fixed  on 
fashion,  dress,  and  gayety,  as  much  possess  the  car- 
nal mind  as  does  the  shameless  profligate,  whose 
conduct  they  abhor ;  and  the  sober  tradesman, 
whose  plans  and  schemes  all  refer  to  this  world,  ia 
as  much  under  its  influence  as  either  of  the  others. 
All  these  have  a  worldly  or  carnal  mind,  and  what 
is  it?  enmity  against  God, — enmity  itself.  What 
can  be  worse  than  this  ?  The  Scriptures  assert  pos- 


THE    FALLEN    STATE    OF    MAN.  IS 

ittvely,  that  this  is  the  condition  of  all  men.  'All 
have  sinned  and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God.' 
This  holy  book  also  gives  us  an  affecting  account 
of  the  danger  to  which,  as  a  fallen  creature,  and  a 
sinner,  you  are  exposed.  By  the  God  of  eternal 
truth  are  you  assured,  that  men  are  '  by  nature  the 
children  of  wrath  ;'  that l  he  that  believeth  not  is 
condemned  already  :'  and  that  'judgment  has  come 
upon  all  men  to  condemnation  ;'  and  that  men.  as 
sinners,  are  in  a  state  of  death :  that  '  the  wages 
of  sin  is  death.'  and  that  ;  the  soul  that  sinneth,  it 
shall  die.' 

"  And  now,  my  young  friend,  what  are  your 
views  of  your  own  state?  Do  you  feel  that  you 
are  in  a  lost  state,  and  that  the  '  wrath  of  God  abid- 
eth  on  you?'  Do  you  feel  that  nothing  but  the 
brittle  thread  of  life  separates  you  from  that  '  in- 
dignation and  wrath,  tribulation  and  anguish,' 
which  Almighty  God  has  most  solemnly  declared 
he  will  inflict  upon  all  the  transgressors  of  his  law 
who  die  in  their  sins  ;  or  do  you  disbelieve  all  this, 
and  say,  '  I  shall  have  peace,'  all  will  be  well  at 
last  Perhaps  you  may  have  been  an  affectionate 
child,  you  may  be  tender  and  compassionate,  duti- 
ful and  obliging ;  but  will  this  save  you  1  No, 
never ;  excellent  as  these  qualifications  are  in 
their  place,  if  these  cpuld  have  atoned  for  sin.  and 
saved  the  soul,  the  Son  of  God  need  not  have  died. 
But  the  fact  is,  you  may  possess  all  these,  and  yet 
live  in  rebellion  against  God ;  and  thus,  however 
fair  your  character  may  be  in  the  sight  of  men, 
in  that  of  God  it  may  be  as  dark  and  as  vile  as 
the  character  of  Satan  himself.  You  see  then  that 
you  are  in  a  lost  state,  and  that  without  a  change 
»f  heart  you  cannot  be  saved. 

"  Shall  I  be  more  particular,  and  specify  somt 


18  THi    FALLEX    STATE    OF    MAW 

of  the  sins  common  to  youth  ;  such  as  the  follow 
ing  ? — Pride,  disobedience  to  parents,  waste  of 
precious  time.  Time  is  given  us  to  prepare  foi 
eternity  ;  but,  alas  !  how  are  its  golden  hours  sin- 
ned and  trifled  away !  One  of  the  most  common 
ways,  in  which  time  is  wasted,  is  in  the  employing 
of  it  on  romances,  plays,  and  novels.  If  you  are  a 
novel  reader,  think  the  next  time  you  take  a  novel 
into  your  hands,  how  shall  I  answer  to  my  Judge 
for  the  time  occupied  by  this  ?  When  he  shall 
say  to  me,  '  I  gave  you  so  many  years  in  yonder 
world,  to  fit  you  for  eternity.  Did  you  converse 
with  your  God  in  devotion  ?  did  you  study  his 
word?  did  you  attend  to  the  duties  of  life,  and 
strive  to  improve  to  some  good  end  your  leisure 
hours  ?'  Then,  then  shall  I  be  willing  to  reply : 
'  Lord,  my  time  was  otherwise  employed  !  Novels 
and  romances  occupied  the  leisure  of  my  days ; 
when,  alas !  my  Bible,  my  God,  and  my  soul  were 
neglected  ?' " 

Sabbath-breaking,  although  not  confined  to 
youth,  is  a  very  common  sin  among  them.  A 
Sabbath-breaker  is  justly  described  as  one  who 
despises  his  Maker ;  rebels  against  the  King  of 
kings,  defies  his  vengeance,  provokes  his  wrath  ; 
disgraces  the  Christian  name  ;  tramples  on  the 
laws  of  his  country  ;  ruins  hi*  own  soul ;  and  poi- 
sons others  by  his  fatal  example. 

"  Taking  pleasure  in  the  sins  of  others,  though 
one  of  the  most  awful,  is  one  of  the  most  common 
of  human  iniquities ;  and  abounds  among  none 
more  than  among  the  young.  The  lewd  and  pro- 
fane, tempt  others  to  lewdness  and  profaneness. 
The  thoughtless  and  the  gay,  persuade  others  to 
imitate  their  levity  and  their  folly.  As  if  it  were 
not  sufficient  to  have  their  own  sins  to  account  for 


PRAYER  FOR  A  YOUTH  N  A  LOST  SPATE.   IT 

many  thus  make  themselves  partakers  in  the  sins 
of  otters ;  and,  as  if  it  were  not  enough  to  ruiu 
their  own  souls,  many  thus  contract  the  guilt  of 
assisting  to  destroy  those  of  their  companions  and 
friends.  Have  you  never  led  others  into  sin? 
Perhaps  some,  who  are  now  lost  forever,  may  be 
lamenting,  in  utter  darkness  and  despair,  the  fatal 
hour  when  they  became  acquainted  with  you. 
Have  any  learned  of  you  to  trifle  with  religion  ;  to 
squander  away  their  golden  day  of  grace  ;  to  slight 
their  God ;  and  choose  perdition  ?  If  not  by 
words,  yet,  perhaps,  by  a  careless  and  irreligious 
example,  you  have  taught  them  these  dreadful 
lessons." 


A  PRAYER    FOR  A  YOUNG    PERSON  WHO  IS  SENSIBLE    HE  IS 
IN  A  SINFUL,  DANGEROUS,  AND  LOST  STATE. 

"  0  Lord,  my  God,  thou  hast  not  been  in  all 
my  thoughts.  By  my  ungodly  life,  I  have  said  to 
thee,  '  Depart  from  me,  for  I  desire  not  the  knowl- 
edge of  thy  ways  ;'  and  though  thy  beloved  Son, 
once  crucified  for  my  sins,  has  claimed  my  heart, 
I  have  refused  to  listen  to  his  call.  And  yet  I 
have  deceived  myself;  and  have  deemed  myself 
almost  innocent ;  have  thought  my  life  righteous ; 
and  treated  humble  piety  with  contempt  arnd  scorn. 
True  wisdom  I  have  counted  folly,  and  folly  prized 
for  wisdom.  Merciful  Lord,  my  lips,  my  tongue, 
my  eyes,  my  ears,  my  hands,  my  head,  have  all 
sinned  against  thee  :  but,  oh,  my  heart !  the  heart 
I  deemed  good,  what  madness  has  dwelt  there ! 
There  have  those  corruptions  abode,  which  hell 
takes  pleasure  in  viewing,  but  which  heaven  must 
mourn  to  see.  There  anger  has  burned.  Thera 
pride  has  swelled  There  envy  and  revenge  have 
2* 


18  THE    NATURE    OF    REAL    RELIGION. 

rankled.  There  vanity,  indolence,  discontent,  in- 
gratitude,  and  all  the  detestable  brood  of  human 
vices,  have  shown  their  hateful  forms.  And  shall 
I  now  plead  that  I  am  innocent  ?  Shall  I  now  de- 
clare, that  my  heart  is  good,  and  my  transgressions 
tew  ?  Merciful  God,  forgive  the  blindness  which 
deluded  me  with  thoughts  like  these.  No.  0  my 
injured  Father,  the  smallest  sin  against  thee.  is 
huge  as  the  frowning  precipice,  dark  as  the  shadow 
of  death,  and  horrid  as  the  depths  of  hell ;  and  the 
smallest  of  my  crimes  have  been  as  much  commit- 
ted against  thee,  as  the  more  profligate  actions  of 
Borne,  who  never  enjoyed  the  instructions  with 
which  I  have  been  favored.  I  have  lived  long 
enough ;  alas,  too  long !  to  the  world,  to  Satan, 
and  myself ;  now  let  me  live  to  thee.  Now,  for 
Jesus'  sake,  guide  nve  from  sin  to  holiness  ;  from 
folly  to  wisdom ;  from  death  to  life  ;  from  vain  de- 
light to  real  jo}r;  and,  finally,  through  the  Lamb 
that  was  slain,  advance  me  from  earth  to  heaven, 
there  to  praise,  bless,  magnify  and  adore  redeem- 
ing love,  through  ages  without  end.  0  gracioua 
Lord,  hear  my  requests,  for  Jesus'  sake.  Amen." 


THE  NATURE  OF  TRUE  RELIGION  BRIEFLY 
DESCRIBED. 

"  That  religion  is  the  chief  concern  of  all,  is  tLj 
declaration  of  the  Most  High ;  and  early  religion 
is  what  he  solemnly  requires.  '  Remember  now 
thy  Creator  in  the  days  of  thy  youth  ;'  those  best 
days,  prepare  to  meet  thy  God.  While  young 
make  him  your  friend  ;  seek  an  enduring  mansion 
in  the  skies,  and  thus,  to  every  other  source  of 
cheerfulness,  add  those  last  and  best,  your  heav- 


THE    NATURE    OF    REAL    RELIGON.  19 

enly  Father's  care,  and  your  gracious   Saviour's 
love. 

"  Most  persons  will  acknowledge  the  excellency 
and  importance  of  religion,  yet  few  are  its  real 
friends.  '  Few  there  be  that  find  it.'  Many  are 
entirely  careless  of  it.  Others  have  the  form, 
without  the  power.  Others  play  the  hypocrite'? 

Eart ;  they  '  speak  fair  words  and  act  foul  deeds ', 
ft  their  eyes  to  heaven,  and  turn  their  steps  te 
hell.'  Youthful  reader,  while  I  endeavor  to  de- 
scribe to  you  what  religion  is,  let  me  beseech  you 
to  unite  your  prayers  with  mine,  that  you  may  in- 
deed be  taught  of  God.  Let  me  beseech  you  to 
attend  as  seriously  to  the  plain  and  affectionate 
truths  that  may  be  presented  to  you,  as  you  would 
do  if  lying  on  a  dying  bed,  and  there  earnestly  in- 
quiring how  salvation  may  be  found. 

"  Religion  consists  in  such  a  practical  knowledge 
of  our  own  guilt  and  misery,  as  leads  us  to  abhor 
sin  and  ourselves  ;  and  in  such  an  acquaintance 
with  the  blessed  God,  and  the  adorable  Saviour,  as 
leads  us  to  believe  on  Jesus  for  salvation,  and 
resting  all  our  hopes  upon  his  atonement  and 
righteousness,  to  trust  our  eternal  all  to  his  care, 
and  to  yield  up  ourselves,  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  to 
the  Father  as  our  Father,  to  the  Son  as  our  Sav- 
iour, and  to  the  Holy  Spirit  as  our  Sanctifier. 

"  The  foundation  of  religion  is  laid  in  a  knowl- 
edge of  our  own  guilt  and  depravity.  As  sickness 
teaches  the  patient  to  prize  the  physician's  aid,  as 
slavery  leads  the  captive  to  seek  for  liberty,  and 
condemnation  makes  the  criminal  cry  for  mercy 
so  the  knowledge  of  our  own  condemnation  and 
guilt  prepares  the  soul  for  the  reception  of  Jesus 
Christ.  Are  you  acquainted  with  this  ?  Are  you 
scndib'.e  that  you  have  rebelled  against  a  God  of 


20  THE    NATURE    OF    REAL    RELIGION. 

love?  and  are  you  penitent  for  your  tran  egression  o? 
You  cannot  else  escape  destruction.  The  Lord  hat 
declared,  '  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise 
perish.'  '  God  now  commandeth  all  men  everywhere 
to  repent.'  This  repentance  consists  not  in  a 
transient  sorrow  for  sin,  but  in  such  a  sense  of  its 
evil,  vileness,  and  ingratitude,  as  begets  in  the  sou" 
abhorrence  of  it,  and  an  anxious  desire  for  deliv- 
erance from  its  power  and  punishment.  If  knowl- 
edge of  yourself,  and  the  evil  of  sin,  has  humbled 
you  in  the  dust,  and  led  you  from  the  heart  to  ex- 
claim, '  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner !'  then, 
permit  me  add,  that  a  most  essential  part  of  relig- 
ion is  an  acquaintance  with  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
Not  a  mere  speculative  knowledge  of  his  excellea 
cies,  like  that  which  even  an  infernal  spirit  may 
possess,  but  such  a  practical  knowledge  of  his  power 
and  grace,  and  such  a  belief  in  him.  as  subdues  the 
soul,  and  leads  the  penitent  sinner  to  make  Jesus 
his  hope,  his  trust,  and  his  all. 

"  In  the  case  of  man,  and  in  your  own  case,  sin 
has  Reserved  eternal  punishment.  The  justice  of 
God  called  for  the  execution  of  the  sentence  of 
condemnation.  But  his  wisdom  devised  a  plan  of 
mercy  for  a  rebellious  world  ;  and  his  compassion 
induced  him  to  adopt  the  plan.  It  was,  that  his  be- 
loved Son  should  suffer  for  man,  and  bear  the  curse 
instead  of  him  Thus  would  sin  be  punished  ;  and 
thus  might  the  sinner  be  entirely  forgiven.  Thus 
did  God  give  to  his  whole  intelligent  creation  an 
awful  proof  that  sin,  in  his  dominions,  could  not 
escape  unpunished.  Yet,  while-  showing  his  infi- 
nite hatred  of  sin,  he  showed  his  infinite  love  foi 
ruined  man,  in  thus  appointing  his  beloved  Son  to 
stand  in  the  sinner's  place,  and  in  thus  punishing 


THE    5MTUKE    OF    REAL    RELIGION.  21 

in  Christ  the  sins  of  man,  that  the  penitent  sinner 
might  go  free. 

"An  acquaintance  with  this  divine  Saviour  ia 
absolutely  needful  for  you.  He  is  set  forth  as  the 
only  foundation  for  the  sinner's  eternal  hopes. 
'  Beiieve  on  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt 
be  saved.'  But,  my  young  friend,  permit  me  af- 
fectionately to  caution  you  against  deceiving  youi 
own  soul  with  the  shadow  of  belief,  instead  of  the 
substance :  for,  in  one  sense,  '  the  devils  believe 
and  tremble.'  Believing  in  Jesus  is  termed,  in 
Scripture,  '  believing  with  the  heart.'  There  ia 
the  consent  of  the  heart  to  this  plan  of  salvation  ; 
as  well  as  the  persuasion  of  the  mind.  If  you 
truly  believe  on  Christ  you  will  receive  him  as 
your  Lord,  your  hope,  your  Saviour,  your  all.  A 
well-placed  trust  in  Jesus  Christ  will  be  found  a 
sure  support  for  hope,  and  peace,  and  joy,  when  all 
other  dependencies  sink  in  eternal  ruin,  and  all 
other  hopes  are  blasted  in  black  despair.  The 
soul,  committed  to  his  care,  will  be  safe  through  its 
little  stay  among  the  objects  of  time  and  sense ; 
and,  what  is  far  more  important,  will  be  safe  and 
happy  when  the  graves  are  giving  up  their  dead, 
when  the  world  is  fleeing  from  the  majesty  of  its 
Maker's  face,  and  when  creation  is  perishing  ia 
final  flames. 

"  If  you.  from  your  heart,  receive  the  Lord  Je 
BUS  Christ  as  your  Redeemer,  you  will  also  sub- 
mit to  him  as  your  sovereign  Lord  ;  you  will  love 
the  commandments  of  God,  as  just  and  holy  ;  you 
will  yield  up  yourself,  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  to 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ ;  that  whether  you  '  live, 
you  may  live  to  the  Lord  ;  or  whether  you  die, 
you  may  die  to  the  Lord.1  While  religiou  leadi 


22  THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    REAL   PIETY 

you  to  trust  the  Saviour  s  Death,  it  will  lea  1  you 
to  copy  his  life. 

"  Wherever  the  precious  Gospel  is  embraced,  and 
Jesus  followed,  a  change  most  truly  glorious  and 
divine,  will  take  place.  Under  its  flfeaveuly  influ- 
ence man  becomes  a  '  new  creature  :  old  things 
pass  away  and  all  things  become  new.'  Let  the 
passionate  come  to  Jesus ;  and  mildness,  in  their 
breast,  will  take  the  place  of  anger.  The  covetous 
will  grow  liberal ;  the  proud,  become  humble. 
Drunkards,  learn  sobriety  ;  and  liars  love  the 
truth.  Thieves  become  honest.  Sabbath-breakers 
improve  the  sacred  days  they  wasted  once.  The 
prayerless  learn  to  pray,  and  find  their  duty  and 
their  pleasure  united  in  devotion.  The  hard- 
hearted change  their  natures  for  compassion. 
The  earthly-minded  renounce  the  things  of  earth, 
and  seek  their  treasures  in  heaven.  And  they 
who  are  addicted  to  what  are  commonly  esteemed 
the  most  incurable  vices,  under  the  influence  cf 
true  religion,  change  pollution  for  purity,  wicked- 
ness for  holiness,  and  the  likeness  of  devils  for 
the  likeness  of  God. 

"The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  places  the  value  and 
importance  of  real  piety  in  a  most  striking  light, 
in  the  history  of  Lazarus  and  the  rich  man, 
Luke  xvi.  19,  &c.  Lazarus  is  described  as  poor, 
despised,  afflicted, — a  beggar  without  an  earthlj 
friend.  He  has  lived  in  poverty,  and  at  last,  una* 
ble  any  longer  to  glean  his  scanty  pittance  by 
wandering  from  door  to  door,  he  is  laid  at  the 
rich  man's  gate,  worn  down  with  sickness.  No 
kind  relation,  no  benevolent  friend  cheers  him. 
The  crumbs  which  fall  from  his  wealthy  neigh- 
bor's table  are  his  support.  His  tattered  ragi 
scarcely  '.jover  the  spreading  wounds  in  his  disor- 


THE    IMPORTANCE   OF    REAL   PIETY.  23 

<lered  and  dying  body ;  the  dcgs  come  and  lick 
his  sores.  Is  it  possible  to  describe  more  compli- 
cated wretchedness  1  But  he  dies ;  and  now  he 
who  had  noli  one  friend  on  earth,  has  angelic 
friends  to  conduct  him  to  the  regions  of  glory. 
Now  farewell  to  poverty,  to  begging,  to  grief,  to 
tattered  rags,  to  painful  wounds,  to  earth  and  all 
its  sorrows  He,  who  had  no  abode  here,  finds  an 
eternal  abode  in  the  mansions  of  bliss.  He,  who 
was  an  outcast  upon  earth,  walks  the  golden 
streets  of  the  New  Jerusalem,  and  is  become  one 
of  the  hosts  of  saints  and  angels  clothed  in  light. 
Near  him,  while  upon  earth,  lived  one,  who  en- 
joyed in  abundance  the  pleasures,  gayeties,  and 
honors  of  a  dying  world.  But  his  all  was  in  this 
world,  he  had  nothing  beyond  the  grave.  At 
length  he  died  The  skill  of  physicians,  the  tears 
of  friends,  and  all  the  care  of  attendance  which 
wealth  commands,  cannot  ward  off  the  stroke  of 
death.  He  dies,  and  lifts  up  his  eyes  in  hell. 
Which  was  the  happy  man  ?  Which  the  posses- 
sor of  real  treasure  ?  Surely  you  cannot  hesitate 
to  say,  Lazarus.  Yes,  Lazarus.  In  his  poverty 
he  was  rich ,  in  his  wretchedness  he  was  happy ; 
when  he  had  nothing  he  possessed  all  things ;  and 
when  his  misery  seemed  most  complete,  he  was 
nearest  to  endless  life  and  joy.  What  was  it  that 
made  him  so  blessed  ?  It  was  true  piety.  With- 
out that,  his  poverty  had  been  the  forerunner  of 
deeper  poverty  hereafter;  and  poor  on  earth,  he 
had  been  poorer  still  in  hell.  When  he  was  des- 
titute of  food,  and  friends,  and  raiment,  and  shel- 
ter, he  had  one  thing  left,  and  that  the  one  thing 
needful.  0  my  young  friend,  remember  that  if 
you  were  as  poor  as  Lazarus,  as  afflicted  as  Job 
is  persecuted  as  Paul,  the  love  of  Christ  woulu 


'44  THE    IMPORTANEE    DF    REAL    PIETY. 

make  you  happy.  And  0,  consider  that  without 
this  you  must  be  a  miserable  wretch,  though  you 
were  to  live  in  wealth,  pomp,  and  even  royal  spleir 
dor! 

"Take  another  passage.  Mark  .ix.  46:  'And 
if  thy  hand  offend  (ensnare)  thee,  cut  it  off :  it  ia 
better  for  thee  to  enter  into  life  maimed,  than 
having  two  hands  to  go  into  hell,  into  the  tire  that 
never  shall  be  quenched  ;  where  their  worm  dieth 
not,  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched.  And  if  thy 
foot  offend  (ensnare)  thee,  cut  it  off;  it  is  better 
for  thee  to  enter  halt  into  life,  than  having  two 
feet  to  be  cast  into  hell,  into  the  fire  that  never 
shall  be  quenched ;  where  their  worm  dieth  not, 
and  the  fire  is  not  quenched.  And  if  thine  eye 
offend  (ensnare)  thee,  pluck  it  out :  it  is  better  for 
thee  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  with  one 
eye,  than  having  two  eyes  to  be  cast  into  hell  fire ; 
where  their  worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  not 
quenched.1  How  solemn  an  admonition,  to  make 
every  sacrifice  for  eternal  life,  is  contained  in  this 
awful  passage !  Not  only  does  the  Son  of  God 
command  you  to  part  with  toys  and  trinkets  for 
his  sake,  but,  to  esteem  no  sacrifices  nor  sufferings 
too  great  when  eternal  life  is  at  stake.  It  is  as  if 
he  had  said,  "  Salvation  is  the  one  thing  needful ; 
v~d  think  nothing  too  precious  to  be  resigned  on 
its  account :  what  though  any  thing  as  dear  and 
important  to  you  as  the  hand  that  earns  your  food, 
the  foot  on  which  you  pursue  your  labors,  the  eye 
which  warns  you  of  a  thousand  dangers,  and  which 
is  the  source  of.  a  thousand  satisfactions, — what 
though  any  thing  thus  dear  and  useful  should 
ensnare  your  immortal  soul,  yet  part  with  it ;  yes, 
part  with  it,  though  it  cost  you  as  much  exquisite 
torture  to  do  so  as  it  would  to  tear  the  tender  ey« 


THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    REAL    PIETY.  24 

from  its  socket,  and  to  cut  away  the  right  hand 
and-  foot  from  the  body  they  support  aud  adoru 
Part  with  the  dear  cause  of  destruction,  though 
through  its  loss  the  rest  of  your  days  were  even 
to  be  spent  in  misery  and  want.  Yet  mind  not 
the  miseries  of  an  hour  to  escape  those  of  eter- 
nity ;  mind  not  all  that  a  feeble  body  can  endure, 
to  escape  the  worm  that  never  dieth,  and  the  fire 
that  never  shall  be  quenched.  Better,  far  better 
were  it  for  you,  to  go,  if  needful,  through  pain, 
and  want,  and  wretchedness,  to  heaven,  than 
through  comfort,  and  ease,  and  prosperity  to  hell." 

Solemn  and  awakening  charge !  0  that  it  were 
felt  by  every  heart !  Awful,  awful  warning,  re- 
peated six  times  by  a  compassionate  Saviour,  that 
there  the  fire  never  shall  be  quenched. 

"  Will  you.  my  young  friend,  listen  to  his  word? 
Will  you,  if  you  have  not  yet  done  so,  now  give 
your  youth  to  God,  and  receive  the  blessed  Jesus 
&3  your  all  in  all ?  If  you  refuse,  0  may  the  God 
of  mercy  grant,  that  wherever  you  go  in  your  mad 
career  of  business  or  of  pleasure,  the  words  of 
Christ  may  follow,  and  still  thunder  in  your  ear, 
that  in  that  dismal  abode,  whither  sin  aud  folly 
lead  the  soul,  the  fire  never  shall  be  quenched ! 
Flee,  then,  from  it !  Flee  for  your  life  1  Flee  for 
your  soul !  If  milder  motives  have  not  moved 
you,  what  can  awaken  you,  if  this  warning  of  the 
Lord's  cannot?  Flee  from  the  dear  delights  of 
sin  that  are  binding  you  over  to  perdition  !  They 
conduct  you  to  that  hell  where  the  fire  never, 
never  shall  be  quenched  !  Flee  from  sins  that 
have  ruled  you  to  the  present  hour,  or  they  will 
shortly  fix  you  where  the  worm  of  remorse  and 
despair  can  never,  never  die  !" 
3 


86  A    PRAYER    IMPLORING    GRACE. 


A  PRAYER  IMPLORING  GRACE  TO  PAY  DEVOC  T  ATTENTIOI 
TO  THIS  SCRIPTURAL  ADVICE. 

0  most  holy,  holy,  holy  Lord  God,  draw  neai 
unto  me,  a  sinner,  in  mercy,  while  I  draw  near  unto 
thee  in  a  way  of  duty.  I  have  done  wickedly  in 
not  hearkening  to  thy  commandments.  Alas.  I  have 
disregarded  the  admonitions  of  thy  word ;  I  have 
lived  in  sin  all  my  days.  I  have  profaned  thy  holy 
day.  I  have  profaned  thy  holy  name.  I  have  made 
a  mock  at  sin.  I  have  never  desired  or  attempted 
to  please  thee,  my  God  ;  I  have  pleased  myself,  and 
have  joined  my  sinful  companions,  and  walked  in 
the  way  of  the  transgressor.  It  would  be  just  in 
thee,  0  Lord,  to  cut  me  off  in  the  morning  of  my 
days,  and  send  me  down  to  that  world  of  woe. 
"where  their  worm  dieth  riot,  and  the  fire  is  not 
quenched."  0,  I  shudder  when  I  think  how  many 
times  I  have  made  sport  of  those  solemn  warnings 
in  the  Bible,  in  reference  to  eternal  punishment. 
I  have  believed  what  wicked  men  and  wicked  com- 
panions have  said  of  the  place  of  torment.  0  par- 
don this  iniquity,  for  it  is  great.  Cast  me  not  off 
forever  from  thy  presence,  but  grant  me  the  teach- 
ings  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  convince  me  of  sin,  and 
to  renew,  and  sanctify,  and  save  my  soul,  through 
Jesus  Christ,  my  Lord.  Amen. 


THE  LOVE  OF  JESUS  CHRIST. 

"  History  relates,  that  one  of  those  happj>  and 
triumphant  saints,  who  passed  through  the  sorrow! 
of  martyrdom  to  the  glories  of  heaven,  just  before 
he  expired,  lifting  up  his  burning  hands  from  the 
midst  of  the  flames,  exclaimed.  '  None  but  Christ, 


THE    LOVE    CF    IESUS    CHRIST.  27 

none  but  Christ !  But  whence  sprung  this  forvent 
love  ?  the  apostle's  words  reply,  '  ice  love  him  because 
he  first  loved  us.  Spend  then  a  few  serious  moments 
in  meditating  on  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ,  our  Lord. 

"  Follow  him,  in  your  thoughts,  from  his  throne 
of  glory  to  his  poor  manger,  and  his  b$tter  cross, 
and  mark  the  painful  steps  he  trod ;  then  may  you 
feel  that  never  love  was  like  his  love,  and  never 
sorrow  like  his  sorrow. 

"  He  was  the  inhabitant  of  heaven  before  the 
world  was  formed.  Eternal  glory  was  his ;  all  the 
riches  of  heaven  were  his  portion :  and  angels  and 
archangels  bowed  at  his  feet.  He  comes  from  a 
world  where  no  sorrows  enter,  to  a  world  of  sorrow 
and  distress.  He  wept  over  wretched  men  whom  he 
saw  ruining  themselves  for  this  world  and  the  next. 
And  0.  my  young  friend,  if  you  are  unacquainted 
with  his  grace,  were  he  upon  earth  again,  he  might 
weep  for  you.  He  would  see  your  danger,  if  you 
saw  it  not.  He  would  know  the  worth  of  your  soul, 
though  you  knew  it  not,  and  would  see,  in  all  its 
horrors,  the  precipice  whence  you  are  falling,  and 
the  state  of  misery  into  which  you  are  plunging. 
What  an  exchange  has  he  made  with  wretched 
man  !  He  bore  our  sorrows,  that  we  might  share 
his  joys.  He  took  our  guilt,  that  we  might  par- 
take of  his  righteousness  ;  endured  the  bitterest  ag- 
ony, that  we  might  escape  eternal  torments ;  died, 
that  w6  might  live  ;  and  came  from  heaven,  that  we 
migh*  go  and  dwell  forever  there.  0,  then,  re- 
member, that  when  he  was  agonizing  in  the  garden 
crowned  with  thorns,  torn  with  scourges,  nailed  to 
the  cross,  and  writhing  in  misery  there,  that  all 
this  was  on  your  account,  and  not  his  own. 

"  It  is  related  of  Colonel  Gardiner,  that  at  tha 
time  of  his  wonderful  conversion,  he  thought  that 


28     A  PRAYER  OF  A  CONVICTED  YOUTH. 

there  was  before  him  a  visible  representation  o* 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  ou  the  cross  ;  and  he  wai 
impressed  as  if  a  'voice  had  come  to  him  to  this  ef- 
fect ;  '  0  sinner,  did  I  suffer  this  for  thee,  and  are 
these  thy  returns  V  If  you,  my  young  friend,  have 
hitherto  neglected  religion  and  the  Son  of  God, 
would  he  appear,  might  he  not  justly  say  the  same/ 
to  you?  Is  thia  your  return  for  all  this  love '/ 
And  do  you  think  the  blessed  Jesus  endured  the 
less,  or  loved  the  less,  because  he  is  not  here  to 
tell  you  the  greatness  of  his  sufferings  and  his 
love  ?  It  cannot  be  ;  "and  will  you  then  submit  to 
him  ?  or  will  you  still  harden  your  heart  in  ingrat- 
itude and  neglect  ?  Consider  this  matter  well.  I 
beseech  you.  Unless  .you  turn  to  him,  as  far  as 
you  are  concerned,  all  this  will  be  in  vain.  As  to 
you,  it  will  be  in  vain  that  he  came  from  heaven, 
and  became  the  poor  man  of  sorrows.  As  to  you, 
it  will  be  in  vain  that  his  hands,  his  feet,  his  side 
were  pierced,  and  that  he  became  the  sufferer  of 
the  cross,  the  victim  of  death.  0  give  him  your 
youth.  Trust  him  with  your  soul.  But  if  you 
refuse  to  do  this,  if  you  continue  to  slight  his  love  ; 
then,  young  sinner,  expect  hereafter  no  gentle 
flames ;  no  tolerable  damnation :  for  know,  that 
the  deepest  and  most  wretched  hell,  will  not  be 
more  wretched  than  such  iniquity  will  deserve." 

A    PKAYER    OF    A    CONVICTED    YOUTH. 

"  O  thou  compassionate  Saviour,  what  praisea, 
what  gratitude,  I  owe  to  thee !  Why  didst  thoq 
Btoop  beneath  the  grave,  to  save  a  sinking  world ! 
Why  pass  by  sinful  angels,  to  visit  sinful  men ! 
Why  raise  man  to  the  heaven  he  never  enjoyed, 
Ddid  not  restore  them  to  the  heaven  they  lost! 


5AR   Y    P1ETT    ILLUSTHATED.  29 

Why  sink  KO  low  to  raise  us  so  high  !  Why  suffer 
for  such  a  worm  as  I !  Eve.n  so,  Lord,  for  so  il 
seemed  good  in  thy  sight.  Blessed  Jesus,  thy  dt 
vine  goodness  undertook,  thy  power  performed, 
this  miracle  of  miracles.  No  merit  didst  thou  sea 
in  man.  None  wilt  thou  ever  see.  Never  cau  we 
repay  the  debt  of  gratitude.  Never  love  thee 
half  enough.  0  my  injured  God !  my  forgotten 
Saviour  !  my  neglected  soul !  Had  I  ten  thousand 
hearts,  thy  love  demands  them  all ;  yet  much  of 
my  life  has  passed,  and  angels  and  men  have  seen 
me  denying  thee  this  one  poor  unworthy  heart. 
0  gracious  Saviour !  0  divine  sacrifice  !  thou  didst 
bleed  for  me  ;  didst  come  to  wash  away  my  stains ; 
to  seek  and  save  me  who  was  lost.  Let  me  live  to 
thee ;  and  in  my  life  adorn  thy  Gospel  and  glorify 
thy  name.  Let  me  die  to  thee  ;  and  die  with  an 
assurance  that  I  am  thine  ;  die,  saying  in  my  last 
hour.  Beloved  Saviour,  through  thy  merits  and  thy 
death,  a  poor  polluted  worm,  deserving  hell,  as- 
cends to  heaven.  Amen." 

"  Let  me  relate  to  you  a  little  historj,  illustra- 
tive of  the  blessings  of  early  piety. 

"  Some  years  since,  in  a  village  in  Derbyshire, 
England,  there  lived  a  young  and  thoughtless  girl : 
her  name  was  Mary.  Like  most  around  her,  she 
knew  not  God.  Her  days  were  chiefly  spent  in  a 
cotton  mill ;  and  if  a  holiday  came,  it  was  an  op- 
portunity for  vanity  and  sinful  pleasure.  Soon 
after  she  had  completed  her  thirteenth  year,  the 
season  for  a  wake  at  a  neighboring  village  arrived  ; 
and  she  proposed  to  attend  that  season  of  dissipa- 
tion and  folly.  A  young  woman,  who  had  herself 
chosen  the  better  part,  persuaded  Mary  to  accom- 
pany her  to  hear  a  sermon.  She  went.  The  plaoa 
3* 


30  BAKLY   PIETY    ILLUSTRATED. 

of  preaching  was  the  cottage  of  a  humble,  aged 
Christian,  one  of  the  Lord's  poor.  The  preacher's 
subject  was.  The  carnal  miwl  is  enmity  against, 
God.  Mary  "listened  ;  the  Lord  opened  her  heart ; 
she  felt  the  power  of  divine  truth,  in  a  way  that 
she  never  had  done  before ;  and  left  the  house 
with  feelings  very  different  from  those  which  she 
had  on  her  entrance.  She  had  done  with  the 
wake.  She  felt  herself  deeply  sinful  and  corrupt . 
her  mind  was  harrowed  up  with  distress ;  and 
eternal  salvation  became  the  object  of  her  desires. 
Now  farewell  to  her  former  vanities  and  follies : 
she  forsook  them  forever :  and  from  that  evening 
began  to  live  anew.  She  sought,  and  at  length 
found  peace  in  believing ;  and  in  her  seventeenth 
year  was  solemnly  admitted  into  the  church  of 
Christ.  In  this  sacred  connection  she  adorned 
religion  by  consistent  conduct ;  she  prized  her  re- 
ligious privileges ;  was  affectionately  attached  to 
her  minister ;  and  secured  the  esteem  and  regard 
of  her  Christian  friends.  A  few  months  after  her 
admission  irrto  the  church  of  Christ,  the  symptoms 
of  a  consumption  appeared,  and  God  quickly  called 
aer  to  himself.  In  the  days  of  langu-shing  and 
weakness,  the  Lord  was  her  support  She  said 
that  she  found  his  promises  sweeter  and  sweeter ; 
that  there  are  comforts  and  delights  in  his  word, 
which  none  know  but  those  who  enjoy  them  ;  and 
that  she  never  enjoyed  so  many  blessings  as  dur- 
ing the  time  of  her  affliction.  Death  had  lost  his 
threatening  sting.  '  I  am  not.'  she  said.  ;  afraid  in 
the  least  of  dying  any  time.'  At  different  times 
she  expressed  her  hope  and  peace ;  or  called  on 
the  friends  that  surrounded  her  dying  bed.  to 
praise  her  God.  At  length  she  calmly  entered  into 
rest,  before  she  had  spent  eighteen  years  on  earth.1 


EARLY    PIETY    ILLUSTRATED.  31 

Sec,  my  young  friend,  how  much  the  grace  of 
God  may  do  for  them  who  embrace  religion  iu  early 
life,  even  in  a  little  time.  On  her  thirteenth  birth- 
day, Mary  was  a  thoughtless  girl ;  and  ere  her 
eighteenth  could  arrive  was  a  saint  in  light.  With- 
in the  intervening  space  of  something  more  than 
four  short  years,  she  was  enabled  to  forsake  the 
world,  to  iiud  a  Saviour,  to  profess  the  Gospel,  to 
honor  that  profession,  to  languish  calmly  through 
months  of  sickness,  to  conquer  death,  and  doubt- 
less land  in  heaven.  How  blessed  was  early  piety 
to  her  !  She  might,  when  first  awakened,  have 
said,  '  I  am  not  yet  fourteen  ;  surely  hereafter  will 
be  soon  enough  for  me ;'  and  had  she  reasoned 
thus,  and  had  she  put  off,  though  but  for  a  few 
years,  her  inquiry  for  salvation,  God,  it  seems,  by 
her  early  death,  would  have  put  it  off  forever.  De- 
lay not,  then,  to  accept  that  blessing  which  is  the 
source  of  every  other.  Your  life  is  uncertain  as  was 
hers.  If  you,  youthful  reader,  are  a  lover  of  this 
world,  what  will  you  have  left  soon  ?  But  if  pos- 
sessed of  religion,  you  may  say,  '  Not  thus  fleeting 
are  my  treasures.'  '  Thou,  art  my  portion,  O  Lord ; 
others  have  palaces,  and  crowns,  or  wealth,  gayety, 
and  pleasure.  This  is  their  portion  ;  but  thou,  the 
God  of  heaven  and  earth,  art  mine,  and  mine  for- 
ever. When  the  miser  shall  have  lost  his  wealth^ 
and  crowns  have  fallen  from  the  heads  that  wear 
them  ;  when  the  man  of  this  world  shall  have  left 
the  world  he  idolized,  and  all  their  delights  shall 
have  forsaken  the  young,  the  pleasure-taking,  and 
the  gay. — thou  wilt  still  be  mine  :  thou  wilt  be 
my  support,  when  rocks  crumble  into  dust,  and 
mountains  tremble  to  their  base,  and  when  the 
Bun  shall  shine  no  more,  and  when  the  earth  itself 
•hall  have  vanished  like  a  falling  star,  that  blaze* 


82  ADVANTAGES    OF    EARLY    ?IETY. 

and  expires — thou  wilt  be  mine  still,  my  God  ana 
my  portion  forever.'1 

"  And  now  were  it  possible  to  call  from  the  dead 
some  that  have  died  in  youth,  0  what  a  confirms 
tion  would  they  give,  to  all  that  has  been  urged 
upon  you  here  !  -  They  who  have  followed  Jesus 
while  young,  might  say  to  you.  '  Follow  him  we  fol- 
lowed. Early  as  we  began  religion,  we  began  much 
too  late,  and  could  we  have  felt  grief  in  heaven,  we 
should  have  grieved  that  we  did  not  sooner  know, 
and  love,  and  serve  the  Lord.  Death  cut  us  down 
in  the  morning  of  our  days ;  yet  we  did  not  die 
too  soon,  for  we  had  bowed  betimes  at  the  feet  of 
Jesus,  and  had  found  eternal  life  in  him.  lie 
washed  our  sins  away,  he  renewed  our  hearts,  and 
prepared  heaven  for  us,  and  us  for  heaven.  He 
taught  us  to  set  our  affections  on  things  above. 
We  smiled  in  death  :  and  now  we  rest  from  all 
our  labors.  Heaven  is  a  long,  long,  happy  home. 
Follow  our  Lord,  and  he  will  be  your  Lord.  Re- 
ceive him,  and  he  will  receive  you.  Commit  your 
souls  to  him,  and  all  will  be  well  with  you,  for  time 
and  for  eternity.'  " 


MEDITATIONS  ON  THE  ADVANTAGES  OF  EARLY 
PIETY  CONCLUDED  WITH  PRAYER. 

"  Come.  0  my  soul,  and  in  serious  meditation 
again  review  these  pleasing  motives  for  yielding 
thyself,  thy  all,  to  God.'  I  am  passing  through  thia 
world  like  an  eagle  through  the  air.  I  am  young; 
but  youth  and  health  have  vanished  from  millions, 
and  will  soon  vanish  from  me.  Could  I  now  gain  a 
throne,  and  become  a  ruler  of  a  mighty  kingdom, 
yet  in  a  little  while  a  throne,  a  kingdoms  will  be  of 


ADVANTAGES    OF    EARLY    PIETY.  38 

Jttle  importance  to  me  :  but  I  hear  of  things  that 
will  concern  me  forever,  of  blessings  that  may  en- 
rich  me  forever.  I  hear  of  treasures  of  eternal 
worth  ;  treasures  like  those  which  angels  enjoy,  and 
which  make  angels  happy.  Thrones  and  kingdoms 
upon  earth  never  will  be  mine,  even  for  an  hour  ; 
but  these  far  better  riches  may  be  mine  through 
an  eternal  day.  When  Jesus  invites  me  to  go 
to  him,  and  take  his  yoke,  he  invites  me  to  make 
all  this  my  own.  And  canst  thou  hesitata,  0  my 
soul,  or  canst  thou  delay '?  Shall  I  refuse  so  kind 
an  invitation  1  Shall  I  lose  all  these  eternal  treas- 
ures, for  the  things  of  a  moment,  that  perish  iu 
the  using  ?  0,  let  me  not  act  so  base,  so  foolish 
BO  unprofitable  a  part !  I  see,  indeed,  that  godli- 
ness is  profitable  for  all  things,  and  would  be  iufi 
nitely  profitable  to  me.  Without  it,  I  had  better 
never  had  been  born.  Without  it,  I  must  be  a 
mere  cumberer  of  the  ground.  Then  my  very  be- 
ing would  be  a  curse  to  myself;  and  I  should  be  a 
curse  to  my  friends,  and  a  curse  to  the  world  ;  but 
with  it,  in  my  humble  sphere,  I  should  be  enabled 
to  glorify  my  God ;  I  should  live  to  my  blessed  Re- 
deemer, and  might  die  leaning,  as  it  were,  my  lan- 
guishing head  for  support  upon  his  Almighty  arm. 
"  Great,  and  ever  blessed  God,  from  revolving 
these  things  in  my  mind,  to  thee  would  I  turn. 
O,  let  them  not  be  lost  upon  me  ;  let  these  pre- 
cious blessings  all  be  mine.  Deny  me  other  treas- 
ures, if  thou  wilt,  but  give  me  these.  Let  me 
win  Christ,1  and  know  him  as  mine,  and  know  all 
the  blessings  which  flow  from  his  love,  either  on 
earth,  or  in  heaven,  as  also  mine.  Give  me  the 
comfort  of  hope,  the  assurance  ef  faith,  and  the 
heaven  of  love,  which  is  the  forerunner  of  thfl 
earnest  of  an  eternal  heaven,  within  me,  and  around 


34        THE    CONCLUSION    Oh    A    RELIG  .O'JS    LIFE, 

oae,  when  time  shall  be  no  more.  Let  me  not,  by 
delay,  make  repentance  more  bitter,  and  conversion 
more  difficult ;  but  may  1  feel  true  humility  and 
sorrow  for  having  wasted,  and  worse  than  wasted,  sc 
much  of  my  life  ;  and  again  let  me  entreat  thee  t« 
give  me  grace,  gladly  to  yield  the  rest  to  thee.  Or 
if,  0  compassionate  Blither,  thou  seest  that  I  have 
been  led  to  this  happy  choice,  then  confirm  me  in 
it,  and  never  let  sin  or  the  world-divide  the  bands 
which  bind  my  soul  to  thee ;  but  may  I  be  blessed 
in  Jesus,  and  humbly  and  faithfully  cleave  to  him. 
Grant  me  but  these  blessings,  and  then  make  what- 
ever  pleases  thee  welcome  to  me.  Let  affliction? 
be  welcome,  as  the  chastisement  of  thy  hand,  and 
pain,  as  sent  to  meeten  me  for  the  rest  where  there 
shall  be  no  more  pain.  If  thou  a.rt  pleased  to  pro- 
long my  days,  let  life  be  welcome,  for  the  sake  of 
living  to  my  Lord.  But  if  thou  hast  determined 
otherwise  respecting  me,  if  a  few  weeks  or  months 
are  to  finish  rny  pilgrimage  below,  let  even  early 
death  be  welcome,  as  a  speedier  removal  to  eternal 
lift ;  and  let  those  years  which  are  taken  from  my 
mortal  course,  be  added  to  that  eternal  day,  to 
which  thou  hast  promised  to  conduct  all  the  hum- 
ble followers  of  thy  Son.  Great  God,  thou  seest 
nothing  in  me  to  add  weight  to  these  requests  , 
and  never  wilt  thou  see  such  worthiness  in  a  crea- 
ture so  unworthy  ;  but  grant  them  for  his  sake 
whose  blood  was  shed  to  wash  away  my  sins. 
Amen." 


THE  HAPPY  CONCLUSION  OF  A  RELIGIOUS 
LIFE,  A  MOTIVE  FOR  EARLY  PIETY. 

"0,  my  young  friend,  let  me  tell  you  seriously 
that  you  must  die.  and  unless  you  obtain  the  con 


A    MOTIVE    FOR    EARLY    PIETY.  b& 

eolations  of  religion,  must  know  their  importance 
when  too  late.  0,  happy,  happy  they  who  die  in 
the  Lord.  Let  the  vain  world  keep  its  possessions  1 
Let  the  fashionable  and  the  gay  enjoy  their  short- 
lived gayety.  and  quickly  ending  pleasure  !  Let 
the  wealthy  exult  in  their  stores,  and  the  noble  in 
their  honors!  these  are  not  the  happy.  The  bol- 
emn  death-bed,  where  the  humble,  faithful  disci}.«le 
of  Jesus  has  lain,  has  often  afforded  a  happier  spec- 
tacle than  the  most  happy  ever  beheld  in  scenes  of 
worldly  revelry  and  pleasure. 

"  Perhaps  you  look  on  death  as  dreadful ;  but 
many  as  young  as  you  have  met  it  without  a  fear ; 
arid  without  a  wish  to  stay  long  here,  have  passed 
through  that  important  hour  to  life,  to  happiness, 
to  Jesus,  heaven,  and  God.  In  1808,  died  H  S. 
Colding,  in  the  24th  year  of  his  age.  When  he 
felt  the  approach  of  death,  he  is  stated  to  have  ut- 
tered these  rapturous  expressions  :  '  I  find  now  it 
is  no  delusion  !  My  hopes  are  well  founded  !  Eye 
hath  not  seen,  nor  ear  heard,  neither  hath  it  en- 
tered into  the  heart  of  man  to  conceive  the  glory  1 
shall  shortly  partake  of !  Read  your  Bible !  I 
shall  read  mine  no  more — no  more  need  it!'  When 
his  brother  said  to  him.  '  You  seem  to  enjoy  fore- 
tastes of  heaven  :' — '  0.'  replied  he, '  this  is  no  lon- 
ger foretaste — this  is  heaven  !  I  not  only  feel  the 
climate,  but  breathe  the  air  of  heaven,  and  shall 
soon  enjoy  tbe  company  !  Can  this  be  dying?  This 
body  seems  no  longrr  to  belong  to  the  soul !  it  ap- 
pears only  as  a  curtain  that  covers  it ;  and  soon  I 
shall  drop  the  curtain,  and  be  set  at  liberty  !'  Then, 
putting  his  hand  to  his  breast,  he  exclaimed,  '  I 
rejoice  to  feel  these  bones  give  way,  as  it  tells  mi 
I  shall  be  with  my  God  in  glory.' 


Jtt)        THE    CONCLUSION    OF    A    RET  IGIOUS    LIFE. 

"  The  last  words  that  he  was  heard  to  uttor  wcw 
'Glory,  glory,  glory.'" 

In  July,  1827,  died,  at  an  early  ago,  a  young 
iisciple  of  the  Saviour,  related  to  the  eminent  mis- 
pionary,  Mr.  Ward.  Her  name  was  Jane.  When 
about  fifteen,  she  embraced  religion,  and  sought 
peace  in  a  Saviour's  love,  encouraged  by  the  gra- 
cious promise.  "  Come  unto  me  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest." 

"  Some  expressions  written  by  that  mouldering 
hand  may  teach  the  young  the  worth  of  early  piety. 
'  I  am  in  perfect  health,  but  not  knowing  how  soon 
death  may  come.  I  am  hastening  to  the  grave, 
but  not  with  sorrow ;  for  I  know  in  whom  I  hav« 
believed,  that  he  is  able  to  keep  what  I  have  com 
mitted  unto  him.  I  must  soon  part  with  all  below 
and  with  my  dear  minister,  but  not  forever  ;  for  I 
hope  we  shall  soon  meet  in  Christ,  and  part  no 
more.' 

"  Her  last  illness  was  long  and  painful.  Many 
hours  of  severe  distress  did  she  pass  in  her  sick 
chamber,  on  her  bed  of  death,  but  all  was  peace 
within.  Often  did  she  express  her  confidence  in 
her  Saviour,  which  at  times  rose  to  the  full  assu- 
rance of  faith.  '  My  mind  is  very  happy — in  a  very 
happy  frame,  and  a  thankful  frame.  I  have  no 
exultation,  but  I  know  that  if  all  the  world  were 
lost.  I  should  be  saved.'  She  anticipated,  with 
comfort,  an  entrance  in  her  heavenly  Father's  home. 
With  all  this  gladdening  confidence  was  manifest- 
ed deep  humility :  •  I  am,'  she  said,  '  an  unworthy 
sinner,  and  have  done  nothing  for  my  salvation.1 
In  her  last  hours,  when  the  power  of  speech  wan 
almost  gone,  she  faintly  whispered,  '  Happy,'  and 
seemed  in  prayer  to  say,  '  Come,  my  dear  Saviour.' 
Shall  you  die  thus?  Can  you  die  thus,  unloss  JOB 


A    MOTIVE    FOR    EARLY    ?IETY.  37 

•«ek  the  Siviour  as  yours,  and  yield,  like  Jane, 
your  youth  to  him  ? 

"  Youthful  reader,  you  too  must  die  ;  yet  if  pos- 
sessed of  a  humble  assurance  that  Jesus  is  yout 
Saviour,  you  may  die  in  peace.  0  !  when  this  scene 
of  vanity  is  ending  ;  when  all  your  ornaments  must 
,be  exchanged  for  a  shroud,  and  all  the  amusements 
of  youth,  or  the  cares  of  riper  years,  for  the  solem- 
nities of  the  eternal  world,  then,  indeed,  will  early 
piety  appear  a  blessing  past  expression.  If  you 
are  a  Christian,  you  too  may  be  able  to  say  at  th« 
closing  scene  of  life,  'Farewell  folly,  sin,  and  vau- 
ity  !  Farewell  all  that  I  once  knew  ! — I  go  where 
perfection  and  purit}r,  happiness  and  endless  life, 
shall  be  my  long,  long  portion.  I  go  from  mortal 
to  immortal  things  ;  from  dying  men  to  the  living 
God.  Adieu!  forever,  departing  world,  adieu! 
But  0,  welcome,  ye  blessed  spirits,  that  come  to 
convey  me  to  my  God  !  Welcome  ye  blissful  scene* 
&f  peace,  and  love,  and  joy,  and  praise  !  Welcome 
heaven !  Welcome  everlasting  life  ! 


PROV.  VIII.  17. 

I.  "  YE  hearts,  with  youthful  vigor  warm, 

In  smiling  crowds  draw  near, 
And  turn  from  every  mortal  charm, 
A  Saviour's  voice  to  hear, 

4.  "  He,  Lord  of  all  the  worlds  on  high, 

Stoojis  to  converse  with  you  ; 
And  luys  his  radiant  glories  by, 
Your  friendship  to  pursue. 

I    "  The  soul  that  longs  to  see  my  focc, 

Is  sure  my  love  to  g^in  ; 
And  those  that  early  seek  my  giaoi. 
Shall  never  seek  in  vain. 
4 


AN    INFIDEL    CONVKKT.MI. 

4.  "  What  objjct,  Lord,  my  soul  should  ino»a 

If  one;  compared  with  theel 
What  beauty  should  command  my  ioTt, 
Like  what  in  Christ  I  see  1 

k.    '  \way  ye  false,  delusive  toys, 
Vain  tempters  of  the  mind! 
Tis  here  1  fix  my  lasting  choice, 
And  here  true  bliss  I  find. 


A  SEA  INFIDEL  CONVERTED. 

"  THE  following  interesting  letter  was  addressed 
to  the  Rev.  Gr.  C.  Smith,  of  London,  by  a  sailor 
who  had  been  an  inmate  of  the  New  Sailor's  Asy- 
lum, opened  under  Mr.  Smith's  auspices." 

"  REVEREND  SIR. — I  humbly  beg  that  you  will 
pardon  the  liberty  I  take  in  thus  addressing  you; 
I  am  convinced  that  you  will,  when  you  learn  th« 
subject  and  circumstances  which  induce  me  to  ad 
dress  you.  The  subject  is  one  in  which  you  ar« 
deeply  interested — the  regeneration  of  the  human 
soul ;  and  the  circumstances  are,  the  conversion  of 
a  man  who  has  been  a  long  time  estranged  from 
his  God  ;  '  a  dweller  in  the  tents  of  sin ;'  familiar 
with,  and  addicted  to  vice  and  depravity  ;  and  most 
grievous  of  all,  who  had  abjured  and  denied  hia 
God  and  Saviour ;  who  has  poured  forth  from  hia 
mouth,  as  from  the  crater  of  hell,  torrents  of  blas- 
phemy ;  and  embraced  and  eagerly  sought  every 
opportunity  of  turning  the  Holy  Scriptures,  and 
the  religion  of  Christ,  into  ridicule  and  contempt. 

"  Such  has  been  the  man,  sir,  who  now  addresser 
fou  ;  such  were  the  practices  I  persevered  and  glo- 


AN    INFIDEL    CON  ." 

ricd  in  for  upwards  of  twenty  years.  Now  it  baa 
pleased  the  omniscient  and  all-merciful  God,  to 
awaken  me  to  a  sense  of  my  guilt :  to  cast  from 
my  eyes  the  film  of  delusion  j  and  to  turn  away 
the  clouds  of  darkness  which  have  caused  me  to 
grope  blindly  along  through  the  valley  of  destruc- 
tion and  death  ;  a  measure  of  divine  grace  has  been 
imparted ;  a  change  I  have  experienced  :  a  happy, 
I  trust  in  God,  an  effectual  change.  Ah  me  I  wheu 
I  look  back  on  my  past  wicked  life,  the  review  ia 
dreadful ;  rny  soul  recedes  and  shudders  at  the  aw- 
ful remembrance.  I  have  been  standing  on  the 
brink  of  a  precipice,  ready  in  a  moment  to  fall 
headlong  below,  into  the  dark  and  unfathomable 
abyss,  where  my  destruction  must  have  been  inev- 
itable and  eternal. 

"  On  my  first  obtaining,  through  the  favor  and. 
grace  of  God.  a  view  and  a  sense  of  my  lost  condi- 
tion ;  my  sins,  my  blasphemies,  and  my  impieties, 
sprang  up  like  torturing  fiends  around  me.  My 
soul  was  agomzed  and  frantic  ;  I  considered  my- 
»elf  as  deservedly  and  eternally  lost.  I  gave  my- 
self up  to  dark  despair.  I  wished. — panlon  me,  sir, 
the  expression  of  the  dreaded  idea, — I  wished  my- 
telf  annihilated ;  I  wished  I  could  regain  the  opin- 
ions I  had  so  lately  held  ;  but  ever  thankful  shall 
I  be  to  divine  mercy,  I  could  not ;  I  assayed  again 
and  again,  but  they  had  fled  from  a  more  heavenly 
presence.  The  good  and  evil  spirits  were  at  war 
within  ine  ;  the  light  of  divine  truth  prevailed  ; 
and  the  Satanic  ties  were  burst  which  so  long  had 
bound  me. 

"4  repaired  to  the  Scriptures  for  spiritual  com 
fort: — the  Holy  Scriptures,  that  volume  of  truth 
which  I  had  so  long  despised,  that  volume  which 
I  had  lately  thrown  from  me  with  detestation,  I 


40  AN    INFIDEL    CON  fERTED. 

now  pressed  close  to  my  bosom  ;  I  opened  its  page* 
and  read  that  Christ  died  as  an  atonement  for  sin- 
ners, for  the  chief  of  sinners.  '  Though  their  sina 
are  as  red  as  scarlet,  they  shall  be  made  white  as 
wool ;'  he  invites  all  to  come  to  him, — '  to  knock, 
and  it  shall  be  opened  ;'  '  to  seek,  and  they  shall 
find ;'  to  'believe  in  him  and  they  shall  be  saved.1 

"  I  am  now  calm  ;  I  believe  that  I  can  yet  hope 
for  pardon  through  the  intercession  of  our  blessed 
Saviour.  '  There  is  joy  over  one  sinner  that  re- 
penteth,  more  than  over  ninety  and  nine  just  per- 
sons that  have  not  sinned,  and  need  not  repent- 
ance.' I  will  seek  the  divine  presence  with  hope, 
yet  with  'fear  and  trembling.'  I  will  not  sink  in 
the  gjoom  and  darkness  of  despair,  nor  will  I  be 
vainly  elated  with  too  presumptive  hopes  of  salva 
tion.  Sincere  contrition  for  past  sins  and  iniqni 
ties ;  a  firm  belief  in  the  sacred  truths  of  divine 
revelation  ;  prayer  and  supplication,  humbly  of- 
fered up  through  the  mediation  of  Jesus  Christ 
the  Redee-mer  ;  these,  I  conceive,  sir,  are  the  sac- 
rifices I  should  offer  up  to  the  offended  Majesty 
of  heaven  ;  these  can  alone  be  my  plea,  when  ar- 
raigned at  the  bar  of  that  awful  tribunal,  before 
that  all-powerful  Judge.  '  to  whom  the  heart  of 
man  is  known,  and  his  most  secret  thoughts.' 

"  To  you,  sir,  and  your  brother  ministers,  I  owe 
a  debt  of  eternal  gratitude.  You  have  been  the 
means  through  which  God  has  been  pleased  to  work 
iny  deliverance  from  the  state  of  spiritual  death, 
from  the  horrid,  all-dair.ning  principles  I  had  so 
long  embraced;  it  was  to  your  preaching,  and  the 
Spirit  of  grace  working  internally  my  conviction, 
that  I  owe  the  present  happiness  of  my  soul. 
Lately.  I  had  esteemed  myself  as  one  of  the  bru- 
tal creation,  as  a  beast  of  the  field ;  beyond  thii 


AN    INFIDEL    CONVERTED.  41 

•arth  I  had  no  hopes  or  fears  ;  beyond  the  law» 
and  usages  of  society,  I  knew  of  no  inducement  to 
seek  virtue,  or  to  deter  from  crime ;  no  inward 
monitor ;  no  appeal  of  conscience.  Could  I  con- 
form to  the  laws  of  mankind,  I  thought  I  was 
guiltless-  and  unpuuishable  for  any  action,  how- 
ever base.  This,  in  my  opinion,  sir,  merely  as  a 
point  of  human  reasoning,  shows  the  necessity  of 
divine  revelation  ;  I  am  convinced  that  a  commu- 
nity of  infidels  could  not  exist  as  a  state  of  society. 

"  When  we  lose  sight  of  divine  revelation  and  a 
superintending  Providence,  we  have  no  guide  but 
nature  and  the  impulse  of  our  blind  passions  :  we 
are  lost :  we  may  be  compared  to  the  mariner  in  a 
ship,  on  an  unknown  sea ;  tempest-driven,  no  chart, 
no  compass  to  direct  his  course,  and  conduct  his 
helm. 

"  I  will  endeavor,  sir.  as  briefly  as  possible,  to 
give  you  a  sketch  of  my  life  during  the  last  twenty 
years.  The  record  of  sin  is  a  gloomy  subject ;  but 
is  yet  interesting ;  much  so  to  me,  as  a  beacon  to 
warn  me  in  my  future  course,  or  as  a  torturing, 
but  inseparable  friend,  to  goad  and  drive  me  for- 
ward to  the  goal  of  expiation. 

"  My  parents  were  sober  and  pious  people  ;  they 
brought  me  up  in  a  strict  attention  to  religioua 
principles,  and  frequent  reading  of  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures. Ah !  had  I  never  forsook  the  path  they 
inculcated.  I  had  been  happy ;  but  Satan  is  per- 
mitted to  prowl  the  earth,  seeking  whom  he  may 
devour,  and  I  became  his  victim. 

"  About  the  age  of  fifteen,  some  of  the  writings 
of  Hume  and  Voltaire  fell  into  my  hands  ;  a  fatal 
bias  by  these  was  given  to  my  mind.  From  these 
I  inhaled  the  pestilential  blasts  of  infidelity.  I 
•ought  with  avidity  for  sceptical  writings  j  I  ran 


4i  AN    INFIDEL    CONVERTED. 

i  through  a  host  of  these  baneful  authors   *nd  tki^ 
completed  my  ruin. 

"  The  steps  of  evil  are  progressive.  I  did  not 
for  some  time  avow  my  change  of  principles ;  I 
was  ashamed,  I  was  even  affrighted  of  them.  I  was 
most  careful,  in  particular,  to  conceal  them  from 
my  parents.  0,  jrir,  it  is  still  a  consolation  to  my 
mind  that  I  did  so ;  it  would  have  sent  their  gray 
hairs  with  sorrow  to  (lie  grave.  They  knew  it  not 
while  in  this  mortal  vale  :  they  would  have  been 
frantic  could  they  have  imagined  that  their  son 
had  denied  his  (\>»\. 

u  The  principles  I  had  adopted  at  this  time 
were  deism,  as  such,  I  believe,  it  is  commonly  un- 
derstood :  a  helief  in  a  (Jod.  or  first  cause,  hut  dis- 
belief in  divine  revelation,  and  the  immortality  of 
the  soul.  But  I  stopped  not  long  here  ;  1  em- 
braced materialism.  The  transition  is  easy,  and  I 
became  an  ath- 

"  Whatever  difference  the  names  of  d/iM  and 
athrist  may  seem  to  imply,  they  are  radically  the 
same  ;  atheism  is  the  goal  to  which  all  infidelity 
tends.  When  we  inject  revelation  and  divine 
providence,  where  is  our  (lod/  When  we  deny 
spiritual  existence,  who  is  1 

"I  embraced  a  sea-faring  life,  and  have  followed 
it  for  upwards  of  twenty  years.  Ah  !  during  this 
time  thfe  evil  1  have  been  the  author  of.  in  poison- 
ing the  minds  of  my  shipmates,  is  incalculable.  I 
have  Leen.  sir.  a  firebnmd,  an  incendiary,  a  demon. 
I  have  argued  with  those  that  would  rrgi'r  svith 
me,  against  the  truth  of  Christianity,  and  where 
argument  failed  me  in  carrying  my  point.  1  re- 
sorted  to  satire  and  ridicule.  Alas!  I  fear  i 
have  too  far  succeeded  :  that  on  the  awful  day  we 
Biutst  ail  sec,  Home  unhappy  souls  will  denounce 


Alf    1XFIDEL   CONVERTED.  43 

me  as  the  author  of  their  eternal  ruin  ;  but  God 
in  Christ  is  merciful,  and  knows  the  weakness  of 
the  human  heart  of  man.  To  him  I  look  for  par- 
don. 

••  Yet  during  this  period  of  mental  blindness  and 
infatuation,  which  had  swept  me  away,  a  spark  of 
divine  truth,  which  had  been  early  planted  in  my 
bosom,  lay  there  suppressed  and  smothered,  but 
could  not  be  extinguished.  It  often  called  me  to 
account  for  the  sinful  course  I  was  pursuing,  but 
I  hastened  and  always  succeeded  in  crushing  its 
expanding  influence.  I  would  thus  say  to  myself. 
;  Psha !  those  phantasies  are  only  the  prejudices  of 
education,  working  on  a  feeble  mind.  I  will  con- 
jure them  away ; — I  will  philosophize  them  from 
me.  It  is  like  the  man  who  in  his  youth  has  list- 
ened to  tale*  of  ghosts  and  spectres ;  his  better 
sense  tells  him  of  the  non-existence  of  such  phan- 
but  in  certain  situations  he  cannot  divest 
himself  of  fear.1  By  such  sophisms  as  the- 
I  endeavored  to  stifle  the  groans  of  a  suffering  con- 
science within  me. 

':ice  on  a  similar  occasion,  I  recollect  having 
thus  addressed  myself:  ;Why  should  I  be  tor- 
mented thus  by  unaccountable  fears,  doubts,  and 
waverings?  Elijah  is  represented  as  having  said  to 
bis  countrymen.  '•  Men  of  Israel,  how  long  halt  ye 
between  two  opinions  ?  If  the  Lori  be  God,  fol- 
low him."  I  will  similarly  say  to  himself.  Victim 
of  incertitude!  how  long  will  I  dwell  between  two 
opinions?  If  the  Scriptures  are  truth,  follow 
them  :  and  if  there  is  no  law  but  that  of  nature, 
follow  it.1 

D  spite  of  every  inward  remonstrance  and 
•olemn  warning,  in  spite  of  dangers  and  disasters 
by  shipwreck  and  by  fire,  in  spite  of  the  howl  ol 


44  AH    INFIDEL    CONVERTED. 

the  midnight  tempest,  and  the  roar  of  battle,  an 
infatuated  victim  of  sceptical  delusion,  1  remained 
a  confirmed  and  hardened  sinner.  Satis  u  was  yet 
permitted  to  hold  dominion  over  my  callous  heart. 

"  I  never  attended  divine  worship,  and  by  ex- 
ample or  by  derision  endeavored  to  deter  others.  I 
compared  it  in  my  mind  to  a  serpent  which  I  well 
knew  possessed  a  sting  which  might  wound  me. 
If  worship  was  held  on  board.  I  always  contrived 
to  avoid  it ;  if  on  shore,  I  never  visited  a  church 
but  to  scoff,  and  to  catch  some  topic  or  expression 
of  the  preacher,  which  I  might  turn  to  ridicule. 

"  I  was  once  of  the  crew  of  the  Lady  Carrington, 
in  a  voyage  to  the  East  Indies.  I  and  some  of  my 
associates  engaged  in  the  formation  of  a  weekly 
paper,  which  was  styled  '  The  Carrington  Nautio 
Chronicle.'  It  was  generally  produced  on  a  Sun- 
day,  and  affixed  ou  sonic  conspicous  part  of  the 
gun-deck,  for  the  inspection  of  the  crew.  Such  a 
plan  as  this,  sir,  if  properly  conducted  on  moral 
and  religious  principles,  might  prove  of  great  ben- 
efit in  the  instruction  of  seamen,  in  long  voyages  ; 
but  in  this  instance,  when  you  consider,  sir,  that 
my  associates  were  men  of  my  own  caste,  you  will 
perceive  that  ours  must  have  been  of  pernicious  in- 
fluence. Truly  it  was  so  ;  demoralizing  and  irre- 
ligious, and  our  subjects  were  obscene,  profane, 
and  blasphemous.  I  have  in  several  vessels  since 
pursued  the  same  unhallowed  course. 

"  I  will  now,  sir.  draw  my  narrative  to  a  close. 
I  have  latterly,  for  some  years,  sailed  mostly  in 
4oreign  vessels.  Returning  to  this  country,  like 
many  of  my  improvident  brothers,  my  dissolute 
courses  soon  brought  me  to  a  state  of  distress. 
Forced  to  seek  shelter.  I  sought  and  obtained  it 
In  the  Asylum,  and  what  I  considered  as  the  great 


iN     NF1DEL    COJv  VERTED.  49 

eat  calamity  that  had  befallen  me,  has  proved,  un- 
der the  blessing  of  God,  the  happiest  circumstance 
of  my  life.  It  is  here  that  I  have  been  brought  to 
a  just  sense  of  my  long-lost  condition  ;  it  is  here, 
sir.  that  my  ears  have  been  first  arrested  to  listen 
to  the  joyful  tidings  of  salvation ;  that  my  eyes 
have  been  first  riveted  to  the  '  sacred  page,  and 
that  my  heart  has  first  opened  to  receive  the  im- 
pression of  a  solemn  warning  to  '  flee  from  the 
wrath  to  come.'  I  humbly  beg,  sir,  if  I  am  not 
too  presumptive,  that  you  will  write  to  me  on  the 
subject  of  this  letter,  such  advice  and  instruction 
as  you  may  deem  necessary.  If  I  have  advanced 
any  thing,  sir,  wrong  in  principle  or  in  diction,  I 
hope  you  will  ascribe  it  to  its  true  source — to  ig- 
norance or  mistake  ;  surely  it  cannot  be  otherwise. 
With  sincere  feelings  of  gratitude  and  respect,  I 
ain,  your  most  obedient  and  humble  servant. 

«  GK" 

"P.  S.  It  maybe  necessary  to  state  that.you 
now  have  my  true  name.  In  consequence  of  the- 
dissolute  and  unprincipled  course  of  life  I  had 
hitherto  led,  I  have  seldom  passed  by  my  proper 
name  ;  that  under  which  I  entered  the  Asylum  is 
a  false  on«.  To  explain  what  you  have  -alreauy 
received,  you  should  know  that  when  I  belonged 
to  the  Inconstant  frigate,  on  the  coast  of  Africa,  I 
conducted  a  paper  there  on  the  plan  of  that  men- 
tioned above  in  the  Carrington." 

Sailor's  Mag, 


THE  CROSS  IS  MY  ANCHOR. 

THE  CROSS  is  MY  ANCHOR, — though  wave  follow  wate, 
Though  frail  be  my  vessel,  this  anchor  shall  save, 
Let  faitfrin  full  confidence  trust  in  the  Lord ; 
Midst  dangers  I  rest  on  his  life-giving  word. 


46  AN    INFIDEL    CONVERTED. 

"  THE  CROSS  is  MY  ANCHOR, — 'tis  steady  and  sure, 
Within  the  vail  holding  all  storms  I  endure ; 
My  Jesus  has  entered  a  priest  on  His  throne, 
I  trust  in  His  promise,  and  in  Him  alone. 

"  THE  CROSS  is  MY  ANCHOR, — All  storms  shall  soon  ceaM, 
And  my  vessel,  though  frail,  reach  the  haven  of  peace: 
No  shipwreck  or  storm  need  I  ever  more  fear, 
When  danger's  extreme,  then  my  Saviour  is  near. 

11  THE  CROSS  is  MY  ANCHOR, — I  now  hear  His  voice, 
'  It  is  Ij'  then  I  fear  not,  but  trust  and  rejoice ; 
"'he  last  storm  with  its  low'ring,  may  speedily  come, 
I'll  trust  in  His  cross,  and  shall  soon  reach  my  home. 


THE  CROSS  IS  MY  ANCHOR" 


Lines  Addressed  to  the  Author  of  the  Above. 

"  IF  THE  CROSS  BE  THY  ANCHOR, — thy  pilot  must  be 
The  Saviour  that  walked  on  the  fathomless  sea ; 
That  reproved  and  controlled  the  proud  waves  at  His  will 
And  spoke  '  Peace'  to  the  tempest,  and  bade  it  '  be  still.' 

*  IF  THE  CROSS  BF.  THY  ANCHOR, — no  harm  can  be  hurled 
On  thy  head  when  the  whirlwind  is  vexing  the  world ; 
Innoxious  the  flush  shall  disfigure  the  sky, 

And  the  red  bolt  of  ruin  pass  harmlessly  b/. 

"  IF  THE  CROSS  BE  THY  ANCHOR, —  by  sceptic  abhorred, 
And  thy  cable  the  ne'er-failing  word  of  the  Lord, 
Thy  voyage  is  safe  and  thy  haven  secure, 
And  for  time  and  eternity  thou  shall  endure. 

*  IF  THE  CROSS  BE  THY  ANCHOR, — then  blest  be  thy  lot, 
For  the  crash  of  creation  shall  injure  thee  not; 

With  the  trump  that  shall  wake  the  wide  world  with  alann^ 
Thy  Saviour  will  hastei  thee  home  to  his  aims. 

Sailor's  Magazine.  0.  M. 


THE    SEAMEN  S    CAUSS.  47 

THE  SEAMEN'S  CAUSE. 

Extract  from  a  speech  at  one  of  the  English  Anniversaries. 

"  HE  looked  back  to  the  time  when  efforts  were 
first  made  in  behalf  of  seamen,  and  he  thought  the 
fathers  and  mothers  of  sailors  were  like  the  prophet 
upon  Mount  Carrnel ;  they  had  fallen  upon  their 
faces  and  had  wrestled  with  God  in  prayer.  Many 
a  father,  like  the  Key.  A.  Fuller,  whose  son  Robert 
was  perishing  amidst  sin  and  wretchedness,  found 
a  very  heaven  ;  and  many  a  parent,  like  the  Rev. 
Leigh  Richmond,  whose  beloved  son  had  gone  to 
sea,  and  had  caused  many  an  aching  heart  to  his 
pious  family,  had  implored  the  blessing  of  God  upon 
sailors  ;  and  the  Christians  of  the  present  day  had 
seen  the  result  of  it,  when  the  cloud  arose  out  of 
the  midst  of  the  sea.  He  thought  such  characters 
would  say.  '  Go.  look  toward  the  sea.'  If  they  were 
asked  why  they  directed  their  attention  to  the  sea, 
they  would  reply,  because  they  had  a  prodigal  son, 
over  whom  their  bowels  yearned.  Christians  of  the 
present  day  had  seen  the  cloud  arise  ;  they  hailed 
it  in  London,  and,  like  the  message  of  the  prophet 
sent  to  Ahab,  they  said,  '  Haste,  thou.  and  go  down, 
for  there  is  a  sound  of  abundance  of  rain.'  The 
cloud  was  like  a  man's  hand,  but  the  faith  of  the 
prophet  realized  it,  and  he  knew  that  it  was  the 
precursor  of  greater  blessings.  His  servant  ran 
before  the  chariot,  and  cried,  '  Rain,  rain,  rain.' 
Twelve  years  ago  the  cloud  was  seen  rising,  and 
there  was  the  sound  of  abundance  of  rain  ;  but  if 
Christians  supposed  they  had  only  to  embark  the 
ressel,  and  that  they  should  always  have  a  fair 
wind  and  a  full  tide  in  the  sailor's  cause,  they  would 


<8  A  SEA  CAPTAIN'S  PRAYER. 

be  mistaken.  Many  rocks  and  shoals  had  been 
met  with,  but  they  were  perfectly  natural.  They 
had,  however,  only  given  a  new  turn  to  the  thoughts 
and  a  fresh  direction  to  the  exertions  of  the  friends 
of  seamen.  They  had  run  on  board  a  rock,  and 
were  backing  the  vessel  off,  but  it  was  not  their  in- 
tention always  to  run  astern  ;  on  the  contrary,  they 
meant  to  leave  the  rocks  to  the  larboard,  and  then 
go  on  again.  (Cheers.)  The  cause  was  still  the 
same,  and  it  could  not  be  altered.  It  was  the 
cause  of  truth,  righteousness  and  peace  ;  the  cause 
of  God  against  the  empire  of  Satan ;  and  it  was 
their  duty  t6  promote  it,  notwithstanding  all  their 
enemies.  Satan  had  seen  the  Gospel  carried  to  the 
villages  of  his  country ;  he  had  witnessed  its  dis- 
semination in  heathen  lands ;  but  when  he  saw  it 
promulgated  among  seamen,  he  felt  that  it  was  a 
death-blow  to  his  empire." 


THE  PIOUS  CAPTAIN'S  PRAYER  AND  REFLECTIONS 
WHILE  AT  SEA. 

O  L/ord,  I  acknowledge  that  I  am  less  than  the 
least  of  thy  mercies.  I  have  forfeited  every  right 
to  thy  compassion  ;  I  have  strayed  from  thee  like 
a  lost  sheep  ;  I  confess  that  my  sins  have  provoked 
thee  to  withdraw  from  me  thy  wonted  favor.  Thou, 
0  God,  hast  justly  hedged  up  my  way,  and  made 
my  paths  crooked.  Yet  I  thank  thee,  0  thou  God 
of  mercy,  that  a  ray  of  hope  is  still  afforded  nw 
under  the  darkness  of  my  mind,  and  the  hidings 
of  thy  face.  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  permitted  to 
indulge  the  consoling  reflection  that,  there  is  for 


A   SEA  CAPTAIN'S  PRAYER.  49 

givenesa  with  thee,  that  thou  mayest  be  feared.  I 
pray.  0  Lord,  that  the  necessities  of  my  case  may 
plead  for  my  importunity,  and  that  thou  wouldst 
verify  thy  promises  of  faithfulness  and  truth,  where- 
in thou  hast  caused  me  to  hope,  and  carry  on  thy 
begun  goodness  to  me,  0  Lord,  until  I  can  say, 
with  thy  servant  of  old,  "  Lord,  thou  knowest  all 
things,  thou  knowest  that  I  love  thee  "  Will  the 
Lord  hear  my  prayer,  and  attend  unto  my  cry,  for 
his  own  holy  name's  sake  ;  and  to  the  only  wise  God, 
Father,  Son,  and  Spirit,  I  would  render  everlasting 
praises.  Amen. 

"  I  am  sensible  that  my  case,  as  it  respects  my 
spiritual  condition,  calls  for  extraordinary  thought- 
fulness  and  solemnity ;  and  as  a  remedy  has  been 
provided  for  such  helpless  sinners,  I  apply  to  that 
remedy  with  all  that  solicitude  and  diligence  which 
my  peculiar  situation  requires.  In  looking  over 
my  journal,  I  find  that,  about  eleven  years  since. 
I  was  much  oppressed  with  doubts  and  fears,  and 
that  after  laboring  under  these  difficulties  of  mind 
for  some  time,  I  resolved  to  seek  unto  God,  by  fast- 
ing and  prayer,  for  relief.  The  Lord  was  gracious 
to  me,  and  delivered  me  from  all  my  fears  and  ap- 
prehensions. Am  I  not,  then,  encouraged  to  look 
to  him,  in  the  same  way,  for  the  removal  of  my 
present  distresses,  and  that  he  would  once  more 
set  my  soul  at  liberty  from  the  bondage  of  sin  and 
death,  and  cause  me  to  rejoice  in  his  salvation  ? 
But  it  is  not  my  past  experience  only  that  I  feel 
encouraged  to  hope  and  wait  on  the  Lord,  by  re- 
newed importunity,  for  a  favorable  change  ;  but  by 
the  solemn  exhortations  and  promises  of  the  Lord 
himself.  For  he  says,  in  the  second  chapter  of 
Joel,  '  Therefore  also  now,  saith  the  Lord,  turn 
ye  even  to  me  with  all  your  heart,  and  with  fasting, 
5 


50  A  SEA  cAny.m's  PRAYER. 

and  with  weeping,  and  with  mourning ;  and  rend 
your  heart,  and  not  your  garments,  and  turn  unto 
the  Lord  your  God  ;  for  he  is  gracious  and  merci- 
ful, slow  to  anger,  and  of  great  kindness,  and  re- 
penteth  him  of  the  evil.'  Who  knoweth  if  he  will 
return  and  repent,  and  lea^e  a  blessing  behind 
Lim.  And  again,  in  the  sixth  chapter  of  Matthew, 
our  Saviour  teaches,  not  only  how  to  fast  accepta- 
bly, but  promises  important  blessings  in  answer  to 
the  performance  of  this  duty.  Hoping  in  the  mercy 
and  faithfulness  of  God,  I  am  resolved,  by  the  as- 
sistance of  his  grace,  to  seek  unto  him  more  ear- 
nestly and  fervently,  until  h«  be  pleased  to  appoint 
unto  me  beauty  for  ashes,  the  oil  of  joy  for  mourn- 
ing, and  the  garment  of  praise  for  the  spirit  of 
heaviness ;  and  0,  may  I  experience  all  this  mer- 
cy for  his  name's  sake." — Sailor's  Magazine, 


THE  COMPASS. 

"  THE  storm  was  loud — before  the  blast 

Our  gallant  bark  was  driven  ; 
Their  foaming  crests  the  billows  reared, 
And  not  one  friendly  star  appeared 

Through  all  the  vault  of  heaven. 

"  Yet  dauntless  still  the  steersman  stood, 

And  gazed  without  a  sigh, 
Where,  poised  on  needle  bright  and  slim, 
And  lighted  by  a  lantern  Jim, 

The  compass  meets  his  eye. 

"  Thence  taught  his  darksome  course  to  steer. 

He  breathed  no  wish  for  day ; 
But  braved  the  whirlwind's  headlong  might, 
Nor  once  throughout  that  dismal  night, 

To  fear  or  doubt  gare  way. 

4nd  what  is  oft  the  Christian's  life, 
But  storms  *-s  dark,  and  drear, 


WORSHIP    AT    SEA. 

Through  which,  without  one  blithesome  ray 
Of  worldly  bliss  to  cheer  his  way, 
He  must  his  vessel  steer! 

"  Yet  let  him  ne'er  to  sorrow  yield, 

For  in  the  sacred  page 
A  compass  shines  divinely  true, 
And  self-illumined,  greets  his  view 
Amid  the  tempest's  rage. 

u  Then  firmly  let  him  grasp  the  helm, 

Though  loud  the  billows  roar, 
And  soon  his  toils  and  troubles  past, 
His  anchor  he  shall  safely  cast 
On  Canaan's  happy  shore." 

Sailor's  Magazine. 


WORSHIP  AT  SEA. 

TV  following  Discourse  was  given  by  the  shipmaster  to  At! 
ship's  company  while  OTI,  the  voyage. 

•So  the  shipmaster  came  to  him,  and  said  unto  him.  What  meanest 
thon,  O  sleeper?  Arise,  call  upon  thy  God,  If  so  be  that  God  will 
think  upon  us,  that  we  perish  not. — JONAH  i.  6. 

"  Once  more  we  are  permitted  to  assemble  to- 
gether to  worship  God,  and  I  hope  we  may  lose 
nothing  by  devoting  a  small  part  of  this  day  to 
the  public  worship  of  Jehovah.  I  am  sure  we 
should  be  gainers  if  we  gave  a  part  of  every  day 
to  his  service.  But  in  order  that  we  may  fix  our 
minds  on  this  subject  more  steadily,  I  have  chosen 
a  text  of  that  Scripture  which  was  given  by  the 
inspiration  of  God,  and  is  profitable  to  us  accord- 
ing to  the  use  we  make  of  it.  The  prophet  Jo- 
nah, as  -we  read,  was  sent  to  preach  to  the  great 
city  of  Nineveh  :  but  fearing  man  more  than  God, 
he  was  determined  not  to  go.  He  went  down  t« 


62  WORSHIP    AT    SEA. 

Joppa  and  found  a  vessel  going  to  Tarshish,  and 
paid  his  passage  and  went  to  sea  in  her.  Now 
the  Lord  sometimes  permits  men  to  go  certain 
lengths  in  sin,  to  try  them.  But  they  must  come 
to  judgment  some  time  or  other,  either  in  this 
world,  or  the  world  to  come  ;  and  happy  are  they 
who  like  Jonah,  return  before  it  is  for  ever  too 
late,  and  judge  themselves,  and  acknowledge  they 
have  sinned. 

"  In  the  text  before  us  we  have  an  instance  of 
faith,  even  in  heathen  men,  which  ought  to  put 
many,  even  professing  Christians,  to  the  blush. 
Hear  the  shipmaster  exclaiming.  '  What  meanest 
thou,  O  sleeper  1  Arise,  call  upon  thy  God  !'  Let 
us  take  a  lesson  from  this  heathen,  my  friends. 

"  And  in  the  first  place,  let  us  consider  whether 
we  do  not  need  the  assistance  of  God  as  much  aa 
these  men.  They  were  idolaters,  it  is  true,  and 
went  each  man  to  his  own  god,  and  cried  to  him. 
But  they  found  that  their  dumb  god's  did  not  still 
the  tempest.  They  were  sailors,  and  perhaps  as 
like  us  in  their  dispositions,  in  their  manners,  in 
their  evil  habits,  and  in  all  things  except  their 
dress,  as  we  can  well  imagine.  They  were  sensi- 
ble that  there  was  an  overruling  power,  and  be- 
lieved that  if  they  wanted  to  be  saved,  they  must 
ask.  In  this,  they  rather  differed  from  many  in 
these  times.  There  are,  strange  as  it,  may  appear, 
in  these  times,  men  who  say  that  if  they  are  to  be 
saved,  they  shall  be  saved,  whether  they  accept 
or  refuse  the  invitation  that  God  daily  makes  to 
them.  Eut  these  seamen,  of  which  our  texs 
speaks,  certainly  went  before  us  in  candor  ;  and 
after  finding  it  availed  them  nothing  to  cry  to 
their  gods,  they  went  to  Jonah ;  who,  we  read, 
was  asleep  in  the  side  of  the  ship,  as  unconcerned 


WORSHIP   AT   SEA.  5i 

a?  if  he  had  been  doing  tc  the  utmost  the  will  of 


"  They  did  not  say,  we  had  rather  perish  thaa 
be  saved  by  the  God  of  Jonah  ;  as  I  fear  too  many 
in  these  days  do,  —  at  least  in  their  actions.  But 
they  even  admonished  him  for  his  irreligion,  and 
begged  of  him  to  arise  and  call  upon  his  God.  It 
was  a  custom  with  these  people  at  that  time,  when 
a  person  was  suspected  of  any  crime,  and  it  could 
not  be  determined  who  that  person  was,  to  draw 
lots.  As  the  Scripture  says,  '  The  lot  is  cast  into 
the  lap,  but  the  whole  disposal  thereof  is  of  the 
Lord.'  Accordingly  they  drew  lots,  and  it  fell  to 
Jonah.  They  immediately  inquired  who,  and 
what  he  was,  and  why  they  were  visited  with  this 
dispensation  of  Providence.  Jonah  very  ingenu- 
ously confesses  the  whole.  Then  they  inquire 
what  they  shall  do  to  him  in  order  to  appease  the 
anger  of  God.  He  tells  them  to  throw  him  over- 
board. How  dreadfully  he  must  have  felt,  when 
death  was  desirable,  rather  than  the  wrath  of  an  an- 
gry God  !  But  mark  the  result.  The  heathen,  who 
had  never  known  the  one  only  and  true  God  be- 
fore, now  see,  and  acknowledge  his  power  to  rule 
the  winds  and  the  waves.  They  accordingly, 
when  they  get  ashore  again,  oiFer  sacrifices,  and 
make  vows  to  God. 

Jonah  we  should  suppose  would  never  be  heard 
from  again.  But  Jonah  saw  that  he  had  done 
wrong,  and  confessed  his  »*ns  to  God,  and  prayed 
to  be  delivered,  and  God  heard  him.  and  delivered 
him  even  from  the  jaws  of  death.  Now,  as  sea- 
men, do  we  not  need  the  assistance  of  God.  as 
much  as  these  men  '?  Can  we  say  we  are  not  idol- 
aters as  well  as  they  1  Perhaps  we  do  not  boW 


64  WORSHIP  AT  SEA. 

down  to  graven  images.  But  do  we  net  kwe  any 
thing  better  than  God  ? 

"  Who  among  us  defies  himself  of  one  worldly 
lust  for  the  sake  of  God  ?  Who  does  not  worship 
one  or  the  other  of  the  gods  of  this  world  ?  Then 
take  a  lesson  from  these  hea^  hen  n.  Ariners,  that  in 
the  day  of  God's  wrath,  these  gods  cannot  save 
you.  You  may  cry  unto  the  god  of  mst,  the  god 
of  avarice,  or  the  god  of  ambition  •  and  which  of 
them  can  save  you  in  the  hour  of  death  1  We 
know  that  there  is  but  one  only  living  and  true 
God.  And  we  know  that  this  God  is  a  holy  God, 
and  that  we  must  be  holy  in  order  to  please  him. 
And  when  we  come  to  leave  this  world  none  of  us 
will  regret  having  lived  too  near  to  God. 

"  It  is  appointed  unto  man  once  to  die,  and  af- 
ter death  the  judgment.  Are  we  to  escape  death  ? 
Although  we  have  passed  through  so  many  dan- 
gers, yet  we  need  not  presume  from  that,  that 
death  will  never  come.  Perhaps,  after  escaping 
many  a  storm  at  sea,  and  many  a  shipwreck,  and 
having  weathered  out  many  a  sickly  climate,  yet 
in  such  an  hour  as  we  think  not,  the  Son  of  Man 
cometh.  We  may  be  in  a  snug  harbor  at  home, 
and  feel  ourselves  safe,  yet  the  time  is  coming 
when  we  little  think ;  and  then,  where  shall  we 
go?  Is  not  the  same  God  who  rules  the  wiuda 
and  the  waves,  able  to  save  or  destroy  ?  Has  he 
not  the  same  power  now  that  he  had  in  Jonah  4 
day  ?  Alas !  it  is  in  vain  for  me  to  try  to  pei- 
euade  you  to  save  your  souls  against  your  own 
wills  ;  therefore  I  leave  you  in  the  hands  of  God, 
praying  him  to  havo  mercy  on  you,  for  Christ's 
eake. 

"  But  allow  me  to  tell  you.  that  if  you  and  I  tr« 
not  saved,  it  is  not  because  tve  have  net  had  wain 


WORSHIP    A.1    SEA  55 

ing  enough  It  is  not  because  the  Lord  would 
not  help  us ;  it  is  not  because  Christians  do  not 
desire  our  salvation ;  it  is  not  because  Christ  has 
not  done  all  that  was  possible,  as  a  Saviour, 
he  could  do  ;  it  is  not  because  the  Spirit  of  God 
LM  no  compassion  upon  us.  No  :  it  is  simply  be- 
cause we  do  not  wish  to  be  saved. 

"  But  I  seem  to  hear  you  say,  '  We  do  wish  to  be 
saved.'  Well,  then,  show  by  your  actions  that  you 
wish  to  be  saved.  If  you  were  on  a  wreck  at  sea, 
and  had  not  the  means  of  subsistence,  were  in  a 
state  of  starvation,  and  no  hope  of  escaping  the 
jaws  of  death,  if  in  this  situation,  while  you  had 
just  given  up  the  last  ray  of  hope,  and  was  about 
to  lay  yourself  down  and  die.  you  should  discover 
in  the  horizon  a  sail,  making  towards  you,  and  if 
upon  her  coming  up,  she  should  send  a  boat  to 
rescue  you  from  your  forlorn  condition,  do  you 
vhink  that  you  would  refuse  to  go  on  beard  of  the 
stanch  ship,  and  leave  your  deplorable  wreck,  and 
insist  on  their  taking  the  wreck  in  tow,  and  leave 
you  on  board  of  her  1  Would  not  such  conduct 
be  unreasonable  ?  So,  and  much  more  so,  is 
the  conduct  of  men,  who  find  themselves  adrift 
upon  the  ocean  of  time,  in  a  body  completely 
wrecked  with  sin,  and  their  souls  are  starving  for 
the  righteousness  of  Christ.  Behold  !  in  the  spir- 
itual horizon  a  stately  vessel  heaves  in  sight!  It 
is  the  ark  of  safety.  Will  you  refuse  to  leava 
your  self-righteous  wreck?  Do  you  expect  the 
Captain  of  salvation  to  take  your  old  wreck  of  sit 
in  tow.  and  tow  you  into  heaven  in  that  state? 
You  cannot  be  so  unreasonable. 

"  You  understand  the  Scripture,  where  our  84. 
yiour  says,  '  Ye  must  be  born  again.'  '  Therefore, 
if  any  man  be  in  Christ  he  is  a  new  creature ' 


06  -WORSHIP   AT   SRA. 

Now  this  boat  is  alongside,  waiting  your  reply, 
Will  you  enter  the  ark  of  safety,  or  dare  you  stay 
another  night  adrift  upon  the  ocean  of  life,  and 
your  body  so  wrecked  with  sin  as  soon  to  sink  your 
soul  with  it,  to  everlasting  woe  ?  Perhaps  if  you 
wait  until  to-morrow,  you  may  have  neither  oppor- 
tunity nor  inclination  to  attend  to  your  soula." 


LORD,  HEAR  THE  SEAMAN'S  CRY. 

'  Awaked  from  gentlest  midnight  sleep, 

I  hear  the  howling  blast ; 
The  chamber  rocks — the  murmur  deep 

Of  ocean,  rises  fast. 
The  lurid  flash,  the  thunder's  roar, 

Proclaim  the  tempest  nigh, 
And  wavering  lights  are  off  our  shore— 

1  Lord,  hear  the  seaman's  cry!' 

This  hour,  perhaps,  the  sailor  thinks, 

Of  wife  or  mother  far, 
As  drenched  and  spiritless,  he  shrinks, 

At  some  portentous  bar. 
The  cresting  foam  betokens  death ; 

The  breaker's  rage  is  nigh  : 
He  prays,  with  quick,  redoubled  breath; 

'  Lord,  hear  the  seaman's  cry !' 

'  Ah !  many  a  youth  now  lost  in  sin, 

And  many  a  hoary  sire, 
Who  never  prayed,  this  night  begin 

To  dread  Almighty  ire. 
In  headlong  fury  while  the  bark 

Pierces  the  billows  high, 
They  learn  to  pray  in  anguish — hark  I 

'  Lord,  hear  the  seaman's  cry  !' 

"  Though  sinking  in  the  whelming  flood, 

In  solitary  woe, 

Saviour !  thy  ever-precious  blood 
Can  reach  thy  hapless  foe— 


FHE    WAY    TO    3£   SAVED.  57 

Catr.h  the  faint,  smothered  voice  of  him 

Whose  penitential  sijjh 
Rises  amid  the  terror  grim : — 

1  Lord,  hear  the  seaman's  cry  !' 

"  Pray  for  the  saibr,  ye  who  reat 

Upon  your  curtained  bed  : 
Pray  to  the  Power  at  w  hose  behest 

The  fearful  storm  hath  sped. 
And  when,  released  from  fear  and  care, 

Sweet  hours  of  night  glide  by, 
Be  so.netimes  this  your  fervent  prayer 
'  Lord,  hear  the  seaman's  cry  !' " 

Sailor's  Magazine. 


THE  WAY  TO  BE  SAVED. 

ii«<ther  is  there  salvation  in  any  nhor.  for  there  is  none  other  naitM 
nader  heaven  given  among  men   whereby  we  must  be  saved." 

ACTS  iv.  12. 

"  IN  the  context  we  are  told,  '  as  they  spake  unto 
•oe  people,  the  priests,  and  the  captain  of  the  tem- 
ple, and  the  Sadducees,  came  upon  them,  (that  is, 
the  apostles,)  being  grieved  that  they  taught  the 
people,  and  preached,  through  Jesus,  the  resurrec- 
tion from  the  dead.' 

"  The  rulers,  and  priests,  and  great  men  among 
the  Jews,  had  not  so  much  objection  to  the  Bible, 
to  the  apostles'  preaching,  to  the  disciples'  doing 
good,  if  it  was  done  in  some  other  name  than  the 
name  of  Christ.  But  in  the  text  we  are  told  that 
there  is  none  other,  &c.  It  is  only  by  Christ,  and 
his  name,  that  those  favors  can  be  expected  from 
God  which  are  necessary  to  our  salvation.  This  is 
the  honor  of  Christ's  name,  that  it  is  the  only  name 
whereby  we  must  be  saved.  The  only  name  wo 
have  to  plead  in  all  our  addresses  to  God.  ThLa 


58  Tilt    WAY    TO    BB    SAVEO. 

name  is  given  ;  God  has  appointed  it.  It  is  givei 
under  Jwaven.  Christ  has  not  only  a  great  name 
in  heaven,  but  a  great  name  under  heaven;  for  he 
has  all  power,  both  in  the  upper  and  lower  world. 
It  is  given  among  men  who  need  salvation  ;  men 
who  are  ready  to  perish.  We  may  be  saved  by  thia 
name,  and  we  cannot  be  saved  by  any  other.  From 
this  subject,  I  observe, 

"  FIRST,    We  must  be  saved. 

"  I  want  the  young  :  I  want  every  person  who  is  OL 
the  full  vigor  of  life :  I  want  every  aged  person : 
I  want  myself:  I  want  us  all  to  feel,  (said  the 
preacher)  that  we  must  be  saved.  For  if  I  am  not 
saved,  I  shall  be  lost.  If  I  am  not  a  partaker  of 
Divine  grace,  I  shall  shortly  be  a  partaker  of  Di- 
vine wrath.  If  I  am  not  shortly  saved,  I  shall 
soon  be  eternally  lost !  If  affliction  should  come 
*nd  overtake  me  in  my  sins,  and  if  death  should 
follow,  as  the  messenger  of  God,  I  should  be  lost, 
forever  and  ever  !  Do,  hearer,  think  of  this ! 

"  I  want  every  one  personally  to  think  thus. 
Don't  say  this  subject  concerns  some  of  my  neigh- 
bors. Don't  evade  the  force  of  truth  by  such  vain 
opinions.  But  do  think,  I  beseech  you.  that  if  yov 
are  not  personally  saved,  in  a  very  short  time,  you 
will  be  personally  lost,  and  lost  forever !  I  do  not 
want  you,  when  you  are  thinking  of  this  subject, 
to  say  to  yourselves,  I  hope  that  many  heard  what 
the  minister  said  to-day,  for  I  could  tell  many 
things  which  they  have  done,  which  they  ought  not 
to  have  done.  Do  not  think  of  them  ;  no,  do  not 
think  of  them,  I  say,  but  to  pray  for  them.  Think, 
Oh  !  think  of  this  :  /  must  be  saved.  For,  if  I  am 
not  saved.  I  must  be  lost. 

"  It  often  affects  my  heart  when  I  pass  through 
the  streets  and  among  boats  and  vessels,  and  se« 


THE    WAY    TO    BE    SAVED.  59 

the  crowds  of  people  that  are  passing  along.  In 
fifty  years,  scarcely  one  out  of  one  hundred  of  them 
will  be  in  this  world.  In  forty  years,  almost  all  of 
this  multitude  will  have  been  conveyed  into  an- 
other world  — eternally  lost,  or  eternally  saved !  Let 
such  a  consideration  as  this  impress  your  minds 
when  you  see  the  crowds  that  are  passing  along; 
and  offer  up  a  short  prayer  that  they  may  be  saved. 
Do  more  than  this  j  think,  with  reference  to  your- 
selves, that,  '  Now  is  the  accepted  time ;  now  is 
the  day  of  salvation,'  and  that  if  you  do  not  attend 
to  the  things  that  belong  to  your  peace,  you  will 
not  be  saved,  but  will  be  lost,  and  lost  forever ! 

"  Do  not  think  that  there  is  no  possibility  that  you 
may  be  lost,  for  it  is  absolute  fact.  It  is  not  a  case 
to  be  argued,  whether  you  are  in  a  lost  state,  or 
whether  you  are  in  a  state  of  salvation ;  because, 
by  the  fall,  and  by  actual  transgression,  we  are  all 
in  a  state  of  condemnation.  It  is  true  that  we  are 
not  now,  at  this  moment,  in  a  world  where  hope 
never  comes ;  but  it  is  also  true,  that  we  may  very 
soon  be  in  that  world,  if  we  are  not  saved.  I  do 
not  say  this,  (said  the  preacher,)  because  I  know 
any  thing  of  your  personal  characters,  but  because 
I  know  personal  wickedness.  I  know  the  deprav- 
ity of  the  heart ;  and  that  if  we  must  be  saved,  it 
must  be  through  Christ.  For  there  is  none  other 
name  under  heaven  given  among  men  ;  and  if  we 
are  not  saved  through  Chrisi,  then  we  are  lost! 
irrecoverably  lost! 

"  Fellow-candidates  for  eternity  !  pray  for  mer- 
«y  in  Christ.  Pray  that  you  may  be  saved,  with 
as  much  individual  particularity  as  if  there  waa 
no  other  person  on  earth  besides  yourself.  Say  to 
yourselves,  Am  I  saved  ?  am  I  an  heir  of  heaven  ? 
am  I  a  child  of  God  ?  am  I  a  penitent,  renewed 


00  THE    WAI    TO    BE    SAVED. 

sinner?       Do  not  say,  If  I  should  die  this  night 

1  should  go  to  heaven,  without  considering  the  ne- 
cessary qualifications  for  that  world ;  but  rather 
inquire,  Am  I  really  in  a  saved  state  1     Say,  as  I 
hope  I  can   say,  that  I  dare  not  go  to  rest,  I  dare 
not  shut  my  eyes  this  night,  unless  I  am  comforta- 
bly persuaded  that  I  really  am  a  poor  saved  sin- 
ner, through  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.     This,  then, 
is  the  first  part  of  our  subject, — we  must  be  saved. 

"  Secondly.  Salvation  is  possible.  Guilty  as  we 
are,  condemned  as  we  are,  sinful  as  we  are,  wicked 
as  we  are,  and  wretched  as  we  are,  this  is  the 
name  through  jwhich  we  may  be  saved.  Though 
we  never  can  save  ourselves,  yet  there  is  a  Saviour 
that  can  do  it.  It  is  not  only  certain  that  we  must 
be  saved  in  this  way,  if  we  are  saved  at  all.  but  it 
is  as  certain  that  we  can  be  saved.  It  is  the  ofiice 
work  of  Christ  to  save  ;  it  is  his  pleasure  to  save  ; 
it  is  his  determination  to  save.  He  came  from 
heaven  to  earth  to  seek  and  to  save  that  which  was 
lost.  There  is  not  a  single  individual  here  to-day 
but  Christ  can  save.  Doutless,  there  is  not  one 
who  has  gone  too  far  to  be  saved ;  not  one  who  is 
too  wicked  to  be  saved ;  not  one  who  has  lived  in 
this  world  of  sin  too  long  to  be  saved.  There  may, 
indeed,  be  some  persons  laboring  under  impres- 
sions that  they  are  so.  They  may  think  it  now 
too  late  to  be  saved.  The  devil  tells  sinners,  when 
young,  it  is  too  soon  for  them  to  begin  to  be  saved  ; 
that  they  may  go  on  in  sin  until  they  become  old  ; 
and  now  when  they  are  old,  he  tells  them  it  is  too 
late  to  be  saved ;  but  0,  believe  him  not.  As  long 
as  Christ  is  in  heaven,  and  you  are  upon  the  earth, 
it  is  possible  for  you  to  be  saved. 

"  Your  case  is  bad,  yet  it  is  not  hopeless.  Do 
not  say  with  wicked  Cain,  '  My  punishment  is 


THE    WAY   TO    BE    SAVED.  61 

greater  than  I  can  bear  ;'  or,  '  My  sins  are  too 
great  to  be  forgiven.'  Come  to  the  throne  of  grace 
this  day,  under  the  imr-resskm  that  you  must  and 
may  be  saved.  God  can  save  you.  Christ  can 
redeem  you  ;  the  Holy  Spirit  can  sanctify  you. 
He  can  take  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  flesh,  and 
give  you  an  heart  of  flesh.  He  can  give  you  the 
spirit  of  prayer.  He  can  give  you  a  penitent,  con- 
trite heart.  He  can  pardon  your  sins.  He  can 
receive  you  graciously,  and  it  is  possible  for  you 
to  experience  all  this  on  earth,  and  you  must  ex- 
perience it  on  earth,  or  you  must  be  lost.  If  you 
can  be  saved,  if  there  is  provision  for  sinners,  and 
for  the  chief  of  sinners,  why  may  you  not  be  saved  ? 
This  is  the 

"  Third  idea,  to  which  your  attention  is  called. 

"  After  all  your  ingratitude,  unbelief,  impeni- 
tence, and  hardness  of  heart,  you,  may  be  saved. 
Will  you  not  seriously  think  of  this  ?  Will  you 
not,  fellow-sinners,  meditate  and  pray,  till  your 
hearts  are  filled  with  gratitude  to  God  for  telling 
you,  in  his  holy  word,  that  it  is  possible  you  may 
be  saved  ?  You  may  bo  saved,  as  assuredly  as  you 
hear  me  this  day.  You  may  be  saved,  as  assur- 
edly as  you  are  sinners.  Hear  what  .Jehovah 
says:  'As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no 
pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked.1  And  we 
find  Peter,  when  preaching  from  the  tame  text, 
saying,  '  He  willeth  not  the  death  of  the  sinner,  but 
rather  that  he  should  repent,  that  he  may  live.' 

"  But  you  are  not  to  suppose,  fellow-inen,  that 
you  may  be  saved,  if  you  continue  in  your  sins.  No  j 
if  you  live  and  die  under  the  power  of  sin,  you  cannot 
be  saved.  If  you  believe  not  on  the  Lord  Jesui 
Christ,  you  may  not  be  saved  ;  you  uiU  be  Us. 
1  Except  ye  repent,  ye  shall  all  likewise  perish. 
0 


62  THEL  WAY    10r  BE    SAVED. 

"  Can  you  select  any  one  person  of  your  »» 
quaintance,  of  whom  it  is  said,  in  any  part  of  the 
Bible,  that  he  may  not  be  saved  ?  Yet  it  is  not 
because  a  person  prays,  that  he  is  to  be  saved 
For  if  it  be  asked,  In  whose  name  do  you  pray? 
should  you  answer,  For  my  own  soul's  sake  let  me 
be  saved,  that  would  not  do.  No  name  can  pre- 
vail in  heaven  but  the  name  of  Christ,  and  through 
Christ  God  has  promised  to  sanctify  the  soul ;  for 
he  hath  promised  that  he  will  receive  into  heaven 
all  those  that  are  believers  in  Christ  Jesus.  Christ 
has  opened  the  gates  of  heaven  for  all  true  believ- 
ers. May  you  feel  all  this,  and  be  enabled  to 
gay,  in  the  language  of  the  Old  Testament,  '  Into 
thy  hands  I  commit  my  spirit,'  and  also  to  say, 
from  your  hearts,  as  it  is  written  in  the  New  Tes- 
tament, '  Lord,  if  thou  wilt,  thou  canst  make  me 
clean.' 

"  Lastly.  I  ask  you  now  seriously,  fellow-sin- 
ner, whether  you  are  really  willing  to  be  saved. 
You  must,  you  can,  you  may  be  saved  ;  then,  I  ask 
you,  whether  you  will  be  saved  ?  I  do  not  ask 
you  whether  you  need  salvation  ;  you  do  need  it. 
I  do  not  ask  you  whether  you  can  save  yourself ; 
you  cannot  save  yourself.  But  I  ask  you,  will  you 
be  saved?  I  cau*not  save  you;  Christians  cannot 
save  you :  saints  and  angels  in  heaven  cannot  save 
you  ;  but  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ  can,  and  with  him 
I  leave  you,  not,  however,  without  once  more  re- 
minding you,  as  I  close  this  short  discourse,  that  we 
shall  each  of  us  L>H  personally  saved  in  lieaven, 
soually  lost  in  hell. 

*  SINNERS  the  voice  of  God  regard, 

'Tis  mercy  speaks  to-day  ; 
He  calls  you  by  his  sovereign  word, 
'  's  destructive  wav. 


THE    CASE    OF    SJ5AMEN.  63 

MYour  way  is  dark  and  leads  to  hell, 

Why  will  you  persevere ; 
Can  you  in  endless  torments  dwell, 
Shut  up  in  black  despair  1 

"  Why  will  you  in  the  crooked  paths 

Of  sin  and  folly  go  1 
In  pain  you  travel  all  your  days, 
To  reap  immortal  woe ! 

"  But  he  that  turns  to  God  shall  live, 

Through  his  abounding  grace ; 
His  mercy  will  the  guilt  forgive, 
Of  those  that  seek  his  face. 

''  You  are  taught  by  this  subject,  reader,  that 
you  are  not  excluded  from  Christ  and  life  by  the 
greatness  of  your  sins  ;  but  if  you  perish,  it  must 
be  from  another  cause :  it  must  be  on  account  of 
your  wilful  unbelief,  in  not  accepting  of  Jesus 
Christ  as  your  Saviour.  Come,  then,  you  that 
have  been  ringleaders  in  vice,  come  now,  take  the 
lead,  and  show  others  the  way  to  Jesus  Christ ; 
harlots,  publicans,  thieves,  blasphemers,  and  mur- 
derers, if  such  be  among  you,  there  is  salvation  even 
for  you,  if  you  will  but  believe.  0,  how  astonish- 
ing is  the  love  of  God  discovered  in  this  way !  this 
way  of  life  through  his  only  Son." 


THE  CASE  OF  SEAMEN. 

Extracts  from  a  sermon  preached  by  Rev.  J.  P.  K.  Henshaw,  Bait. 

u  THE  very  nature  of  their  occupation  cuts  them 
off  from  the  ordinary  means  of  grace  and  religious 
improvement,  during  a  great  portion  of  their  lives. 
It  is  estimated  that  seamen  are  on  shore  not  more 


r,i 


THE    Cib'K    OF    SEAMEN. 


than  one-fourth  of  their  time ;  consequently,  th* 
remainder  is  spent  upon  the  bosom  of  the  deep. 
They  are,  during  three-fourths  of  their  time,  sepa- 
rated from  home  and  kindred — from  all  that  is  im- 
proving and  refining  in  domestic  life — and.  what  is 
more  lamentable,  from  all  the  public  and  social 
means  of  grace.  To  them  no  holy  Sabbath  marks 
the  revolution  of  the  week,  by  its  welcome  offer  of 
repose  for  the  body  and  instruction  for  the  soul 
They  are  never  called  to  bend  the  knee  in  common 
prayer  to  our  common  Father  in  heaven,  nor  to 
unite  their  voices  in  the  social  hymn  of  praise.  No 
ambassador  of  peace  proclaims  in  their  ears  the 
joyful  tidings  of  redeeming  love.  No  sacramental 
table,  with  its  holy  and  inviting  symbols,  is  spread 
before  them,  to  remind  them  of  the  pains  and  ago- 
nies of  Him  who  was  crucified  for  their  sins,  and 
of  the  rich  spiritual  feast  which  he  has  provided 
for  their  souls.  They  may.  indeed,  '  see  the  works 
of  the  Lord,  and  his  wonders  in  the  deep  ;' — they 
may  behold  the  heavens  he  has  made,  the  moou  and 
the  stars  which  he  has  ordained  ; — they  may  hear 
his  threatenings  in  the  tempest  and  the  thunder, 
and  perceive  his  mercy  in  their  deliverance  from 
perils  ;  and,  if  possessed  of  the  volume  of  his  word, 
they  may  cast  their  eye  over  its  sacred  pages ;  but 
alas !  if  their  minds  are  not  stored  with  religious 
sentiments,  and  they  have  not  tire  eye  of  faith,  all 
will  be  a  wide  and  unnleaning  blank  that  will  im- 
part no  instruction,  and  excite  no  proper  feelings 
in  their  hearts : — '  They  regard  not  the  works  of 
the  Lord,  nor  consider  the  operations  of  his  hands.' 
If  we  find  that,  on  land,  where  the  means  of  grace 
abound, — where  men  have  'line  upon  line,  arid  pre- 
eept  upon  precept. — here  a  little  and  there  a  little ' 
•o  few  are  truly  devoted  to  God,  and  active  in  re- 


OBL  "CATIONS    TO    S1AMEN.  TO 

ligion, — it  would  be  like  looking  for  impossibilities, 
and  supposing  seamen  to  be  more  than  human,  to 
expect  that  their  minds  would  be  stored  with  Chris- 
tian knowledge,  and  their  actions  governed  by  Chris- 
tian precepts,  under  the  circumstances  of  destitu- 
tion in  which  they  are  placed. 

u  Till  within  a  few  years  past,  an  entire  indifier 
ence  and  apathy  on  this  subject  prevailed.  The 
poor  seamen  arrived  on  our  shores,  and,  so  far  from 
being  surrounded  by  the  agents  of  benevolence 
and  friends  of  religion,  who  desire  to  promote  their 
temporal  and  eternal  welfare,  they  were  seized  by 
harpies,  dragged  to  the  haunts  of  dissipation  and 
vice,  and,  like  the  poor  man  who  fell  among  thieves, 
'  stripped,  wounded,  and  left  half  dead  ;'  and  the 
friends  of  humanity  and  religion,  as  if  utterly  for- 
getful of  their  duties,  like  the  priest  and  Levite, 
in  the  parable,  left  them  to  the  mercy  of  their  tor 
mentors,  '  and  passed  by  on  the  other  side !' 

"  Can  we  wonder,  then,  at  the  low  state  of  relig- 
ion and  morals  among  seamen,  when  no  man  cared 
for  their  souis  ?  when  no  counsellors  appeared  to  in- 
struct them  in  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  no  kind 
friends  took  them  by  the  hand  to  lead  them  in  the 
way  of  life  ?  Must  not  a  part  of  the  guilt  be  laid 
at  our  doors  ?  Have  they  not  a  strong  claim  to  our 
compassion  and  benevolence,  grounded  upon  our 
former  insensibility  to  their  misery,  and  neglect  of 
their  best  interests  ?  Is  it  not  time  that  we  begin 
in  earnest  to  act  the  part  of  the  good  Samaritan  ?" 


OBLIGATIONS  TO  SEAMEN. 

"  What  Christian  man  does  not  long  for  the  time 
when  there  shall  be  no  farther  displays  of  naval 
6* 


86  OBLIGATIONS    TO    SEAMEN. 

skill,  and  martial  valor — when  the  brave  and  gen 
erous  spirits  of  whom  I  am  speaking,  baptized  with 
the  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  will  carry  the  news  of  sal- 
vation with  them  in  all  their  voyages,  and  go,  as 
swift  messengers,  to  corrupt  and  idolatrous  nations, 
bearing  the  joyful  tidings  of  peace  with  God,  and 
good-will  to  all  mankind  ! 

"  To  seamen  we  are  indebted  for  many  of  our 
comforts,  and  almost  all  of  our  luxuries.  They 
commit  themselves  to  the  perils  of  the  deep,  brave 
the  storm  and  the  tempest,  and  visit  foreign  climes, 
for  the  purpose  of  supplying  delicacies  for  our  ta- 
bles, ornaments  for  our  persons,  books  for  our  li- 
braries, and  decorations  for  our  dwellings.  When 
feasting  upon  imported  luxuries ;  when  clothed  in 
purple  or  fine  linen ;  when  admiring  your  splen- 
did and  finely-wrought  articles  of  furniture ;  or 
enriching  your  miuds  with  the  treasures  of  foreign 
genius  and  science  ;  think  of  the  claims  of  the  sail- 
or, by  whose  toil  and  exposure  these  things  have 
been  procured  for  you.  Let  the  merchant,  espe- 
cially, reflect  upon  the  heavy  debt  of  gratitude  he 
owes.  When  counting  the  wealth  in  his  coffers, 
when  surveying  his  store-houses,  filled  with  the 
valuable  productions  of  other  countries. — when  liv- 
ing in  ease,  affluence,  and  splendor,- — let  him  call 
to  mind,  that,  under  a  gracious  Providence,  he  is 
chiefly  indebted  for  all  his  possessions  and  com- 
forts, to  the  sweat  and  toil  of  the  hardy  seamen, 
who  have  submitted  to  a  temporary  banishment 
from  their  native  land,  with  all  its  privileges  and 
comforts,  from  Sabbaths  and  sanctuaries  and  home  ; 
and  let  him  ask.  what  return  he  can  make  for  the 
labors  and  sacrifices  to  which  they  have  submitted 
in  his  service?  Ah  !  where  is  our  boasted  patriot 
ism,  if  we  make  no  acknowledgments  to  those  who 


MEANS    OT    GRACE.  flf 

nave  been  the  supporters  and  defend  *ra  of  our 
country's  rights  and-  liberties?  Where  are  cur 
principles  of  justice  and  honor,  if  we  offer  no  re- 
turn of  benefits  to  those  who  have  so  largely  con- 
tributed to  our  prosperity  and  wealth  1  Have  we 
even  the  virtue  of  the  degraded  and  vicious  publi- 
cans, if  we  do  not  good  to  those  who  have  done 
(food  to  us  ?" 


MEANS  OF  GRACE. 

The  same  means  of  grace  that  serve  as  channels 
through  which  light  and  consolation  are  poured 
into  the  souls  of  other  men,  must  be  extended  to 
sur  seafaring  brethren,  if  we  hope  to  see  them 
made  partakers  of  the  salvation  which  is  in  Christ 
Jesus.  They  must  have  the  word  of  life  and  other 
cooks  of  religious  instruction  put  into  their  hands. 
Not  a  ship  should  sail  from  a  Christian  port  with- 
out a  supply  of  Bibles  and  religious  tracts.  In  the 
oours  of  loneliness  and  weariness  incident  to  a  voy- 
age, the  most  negligent  and  hardened  might  be  led 
to  take  up  a  tract  and  read  it,  from  motives  of  cu- 
riosity or  amusement,  or  for  want  of  other  employ- 
ment. And  that  tract,  before  contemned  and  ridi- 
culed, might  be  the  instrument,  in  the  hands  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  of  arresting  the  attention  of  the 
sinner — of  opening  his  mind  to  perceive  the  reali- 
ties of  au  eternal  world,  and  leading  him.  as  a 
trembling  penitent,  to  the  foot  of  the  cross.  There 
are  times  in  every  seaman's  life.  when,  by  the  force 
of  outward  circumstances,  he  must  be  led  to  re- 
flect on  God.  the  sonl,  and  eternity.  "  Those  men 
that  go  down  to  the  sea.  in  ships,  and  do  business 
pi  great  waters,  see  the  works  of  the  Lord,  and 


<J8  JlEANS    OF    GRACE. 

his  wonders  in  the  deep."  When  looking  abroad 
upon  the  wide  and  boundless  expanse  of  the  ocean, 
or  gazing  at  the  spangled  firmament ;  when  the 
surrounding  calm  at  once  invites  and  compels  to 
reflection,  what  rays  of  light  and  lessons  of  wis- 
dom would  the  volume  of  revelation  shed  upon 
the  otherwise  blank  and  unintelligible  book  of 
nature?  How  would  the  perusal  of  his  Bible, 
under  circumstances  like  these,  inspire  the  sail- 
or's mind  with  lofty  conceptions  of  the  character 
ot  Him  who  formed  all  the  wonders  upon  which 
his  eye  had  gazed,  and  cause  his  heart  to  bow 
with  reverence  and  devotion  before  that  Almighty 
being.  "  who  spread  out  the  heavens  as  a  curtain, 
and  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth  ;  whose  paths 
are  in  the  mighty  waters,  and  whose  footstops  are 
not  known  ?" 

And  when  'the  calm  has  passed  away,  when  the 
hemisphere  is  black  with  clouds ;  when  the  tem- 
pest rages  with  all  its  fury,  and  the  agitated  sea 
tosses  her  waves  on  high,  when  the  guilty  mariner 
hears  in  every  blast  the  threateniugs  of  an  angry 
Judge,  and  in  the  horror  of  anticipated  death, 
asks,  "  '  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved  ?'  how  can  I 
be  prepared  to  meet  my  God  ?"  0  where  can  he 
find  a  solution  of  his  doubts  and  an  answer  to  his 
inquiries,  but  in  the  Bible  ?  That  blessed  volume 
tells  him  of  one  who  "  delivereth  from  the  wrath 
to  come,"  directs  him  to  "  believe  in  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  and  he  shall  be  saved  !"  Those  to 
whom  the  Bible  is  precious,  who  have  made  it  the 
man  of  their  counsel,  who  have  an  experimental 
knowledge  of  its  saving  truths,  may  be  calm  and 
collected,  even  amidst  the  terrors  of  such  a  scene. 
They  know  in  whom  they  have  believed,  and  have 
east  their  anchor  of  hope  within  the  vail,  fast  by 


A    BLASPHEMER    CONVERTED.  63 

the  throne  of  God.  And  therefore,  while  all  if 
noisy  and  tempestuous  without,  all  is  peaceful  and 
tranquil  within  ;  and  amidst  the  rattling  of  the 
shrouds,  the  creaking  of  the  masts,  and  the  howl- 
ing of  the  storm,  they  can  lift  up  their  mild  and 
submissive  countenances  to  the  heavens,  and  per- 
haps with  tremulous  but  yetjoyful  voices  sing, 

"  The  God  that  rules  on  high, 

And  thunders  when  he  please, 
That  rides  upon  the  stormy  sky 
And  manages  the  seas : — 

"  This  awful  God  is  ours, 

Our  Father,  and  our  love  ; 
He  shall  send  down  his  heavenly  power* 
To  carry  us  above." 

Sailvr's  Magaziwt 


A  BLASPHEMER  CONVERTED. 

"  THE  following  interesting  anecdote  was  related 
1/7  a  person  who  keeps  a  boarding-house  in  Liver- 
pool, England.  A  Scotch  seaman,  who  was,  aa 
expressed  by  his  shipmates,  a  horrid  blasphemer, 
on  his  late  passage  borne  from  the  Indies,  wanting 
something  out  of  the  forecastle,  was  groping  for  it, 
when  he  clapped  his  hand  on  a  book  which  one  of 
the  men  had  been  reading  in  his  wat<A  below  ; 
curiosity  induced  him  to  examine  its  contents.  It 
was  a  Testament  .  he  opened  it.  and  with  surprise 
and  attention  read  the  denouncement  of  God's 
anger  against  wicked  blasphemers.  The  exact 
words  the  friend  couli  not  recollect,  but  they  cer- 
tainly tcere  applied  with  the  power  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  From  that  time  a  striking  and  decided 


70  A    BLASPHEMER    CONVERTED. 

change  has  occurred  in  his  habits  and  character, 
for  he  has  forsaken  his  bad  companions,  and 
broken  off  all  evil  practices.  He  who  was  before  a 
bold  and  dauntless  swearer,  is  now  found  convers- 
ing with  his  shipmates  about  spiritual  and  eternal 
truths  : — he  whose  only  happiness  appeared  to  be 
in  ale-houses,  brothels,  &c.,  is  now  to  be  found  a 
eonriisteut  attendant  at  the  prayer-meetings  and 
Juouse  of  God.  The  testimony  of  those  who  wit- 
>'<jf.»pd  this  chstoge  of  character  is  a  strong  con- 
r.»etion  of  the  reality  of  the  change. 

"  Still  another.  A  sailor,  after  one  of  the 
grayer-meetings  in  Liverpool,  was  observed  much 
dejected :  he  addressed  one  of  the  friends,  saying, 
'  I  have  heard  your  prayers  for  mercy  upon  sail- 
ors, and  you  have  encouraged  us  to  pray,  and 
hope  for  mercy  ;  but  alas  !  I  am  in  the  gall  of  bitter- 
ness and  in  the  bonds  of  iniquity.  When  I  think 
of  eternity,  I  dread  the  thought  of  being  ban- 
ished from  the  Almighty,  and  from  happiness, 
into  u  outer  darkness"  ;  this  distresses  me  beyond 
expression.'  He  was  asked  what  caused  these 
thoughts.  He  said.  '  he  was  first  invited  to  the 
meetings  by  a  shipmate  ;  for  some  time  he  was 
very  indifferent  about  what  was  going  forward,  or 
what  he  beard,  but  he  still  attended  ;  at  length 
his  mind  gave  way ;  if  there  was  truth  in  these 
things  he  was  a  poor  lost  soul ;  his  heart  began  to 
melt,  a»d  to  force  him  to  pray  for  forgiveness  of 
his  sins  ;  he  soon  forsook  his  drunken  habits,  and 
waited  pleading  at  mercy's  door  ;  but;  alas !  he 
feared,  and  his  conscience  accused  him  of  sinning 
against  the  Holy  Ghost.'  The  poor  fellow  was 
encouraged  to  continue  to  pray,  as  these  thoughts 
were  temptations  from  the  evil  one  ;  for  if  the  Lord 
had  not  thoughts  of  mercy,  He  would  not  by  hia 


THE    STRANGER  S    BURYING    PLACE.  71 

Spirit  have  alarmed  him  to  flee  from  the  wrath  to 
come,  and  assisted  him  by  his  grace  to  forsake 
his  evil  companions  and  drunken  habits.  He  felt 
encouraged  to  persevere ;  and  now  he  is  thanking 
God  for  removing  guilt  from  his  conscience,  and 
assisting  him  to  enjoy  fellowship  with  his  people. 

Sailor's  Magazine, 


THE  STRANGER'S  BURYING  PLACE. 

"  April  12th.  Arose  early  on  Saturday  morn- 
ing, and  went  to  Whampoa.  Spent  part  of  the 
afternoon  on  French  Island,  where  multitudes  of 
natives  and  foreigners  await  the  morning  of  the 
resurrection.  Here  are  three  groups  of  strangers, 
occupying  different  places,  though  out  a  short  dis- 
tance apart.  The  two  most  contiguous  to  the 
present  anchorage  are  of  a  recent  date,  and  prin- 
cipally consist  of  Americans  and  English.  The 
tombs  of  the  other  are  inscribed  in  different  lan- 
guages, and  refer  you,  with  a  few  exceptions,  to 
the  past  century.  The  majority  were  cut  off  in 
the  vigor  of  youth,  and  very  many  without  a  mo- 
ment's warning  Probably  the  comparative  num- 
ber of  drowned  is  without  a  parallel  in  any  ceme- 
tery ;  and  of  all  this  number  there  are  very  few, 
if  any,  who  had  passed  the  morning  of  life.  What 
a  solemn  admonition  td  thoughtless  youtii.  It  is 
surprising  that  those  who  fall  from  the  ships,  how- 
ever expert  they  may  be  at  swimming,  and  even 
accustomed  to  exercise  in  this  very  river,  seldom 
arise  to  the  surface,  or  are  rescued  from  the  graap 
of  death.  Many  a  mound  is  pointed  out  where 
Bleep  the  bodies  of  those  who  were  healthy,  gay, 
»nd  unapprehensive  of  their  change  the  very  mo- 


72  THE    FEAILTY    OF    MAN. 

ment  before  their  deathful  plunge.     In  the  midai 
of  cheerful  conversation  there  was  an  abrupt  pause 
t  sudden  dash,  and  an  awful  eternity. — Mr.  Abed' 
Journal  at  Canton. 


THE  FRAILTY  OF  MAN. 
"  Lord,  what  is  man— his  pride— his  pomp — his  glory  V' 

"  How  frail  is  man  ! — a  sail,  a  little  bark, 

Combats  the  raging  of  the  mighty  sea  ; 
And  when  the  sky  with  awful  clouds  is  dark, 
Father  of  lights,  we  lift  each  voice  to  thee. 

"Then  hear  us  from  the  sounding  billow's  crest, 

Uplifted  to  the  lightnings  of  the  sky, 
By  all  the  fury  of  the  tempest  press'd  — 
Benignant  Father,  hear  our  humble  cry. 

"  To  the  wild  wave  our  little  vessel  reels — 

The  dreary  fires  have  lit  the  sullen  main: 
And  the  proud  heart,  reft  of  its  greatness,  feels 
That  all  but  Thou  must  stretch  the  hand  in  vain. 

"  The  thunder  shakes  the  rain-drop  from  the  clouds,— 

The  creaking  mast  bends  to  the  raging  gale, 
That  in  loud  murmurs  whistles  through  the  shroud*^ 
God  of  the  storm  ! — what  can  a  worm  avail  1 

B  Wild  on  the  wind  the  seaman's  shouts  arise — 

The  petrel  shrieks  amid  the  snowy  spray, 
Rent  by  the  gale  the  bursting  canvas  flies  ; — 
God  of  the  thunder — speed  the  storm  away. 

"  Thou  see'*  the  mother  rushing  in  despair 

To  the  damp  decks,  the  infant  at  her  breast, 

Wild  is  her  eye,  and  loose  her  moistened  hair  ;— 

Friend  of  the  wretched — pity  the  distress'd. 

"Thou  see:st  the  sons  support  their  fathers'  head, 

Death  !  Jiitter  death.,  has  dimm'd  affections  eye ; 
Thou  hear:st  their  groans,  thou  see'st  the  tears  they  nb*d;< 
Smile,  God  of  Nature,  from  the  murky  skr. 


VICE    PKOGKESSIVK.  79 

3 Smile  in  the  sun's  beams,  Parent  of  the  seas! 

God  of  the  whirlwind,  with  thy  soothing  breath, 
Check  the  wild  tempest,  and  the  howling  breeze  ;- 
Father — 'tis  thine  to  give  us  life  or  death. 

Sailor's  Magazine 


VICE  PROGRESSIVE. 

Kxtract  from  a  sermon  lately  delivered  in  New  York,  by  tbe  Rre.  J, 
P.  Thompson,  occasioned  by  the  ignominious  death  of  a  young  man 
in  New  Haven,  where  Mr  T.  was  formerly  settled  in  the  paster*! 
office. 

"  SOME  ten  years  ago  he  was  a  pupil  in  the  Sab- 
bath school  in  which  I  was  then  a  teacher.  He 
was  a  well-behaved  youth ;  neither  profane,  idle, 
nor  vicious ;  and  as  he  grew  up  to  manhood,  he 
acquired  a  character  for  industry  and  sobriety. 
Occasionally,  indeed,  he  fell  into  loose  company, 
but  was  soon  reclaimed  by  parental  kindness  and 
authority,  so  that  till  he  became  of  age,  he  was 
never  openly  vicious,  and  seldom  absent  from  his 
father's  house  at  unreasonable  hours.  In  short, 
his  general  deportment  at  this  period  would  have 
compared  favorably  with  that  of  the  youth  in  any 
well  regulated  household.  About  four  years  ago, 
when  nineteen  years  of  age,  he  began  to  attend  on 
my  ministry,  and  in  the  course  of  a  few  months, 
having  entertained  hope  in  Christ,  he  made  a  pub- 
lic profession  of  religion.  Well  do  I  remember 
my  first  conversation  with  him  on  that  suVject,— 
and  the  serious  and  satisfactory  narration  which 
he  then  gave  of  his  religious  experience.  He 
joined  the  church  in  June,  1 843.  and  month  after 
mouth  came  to  the  table  of  tho  Lord  :  he  doubt- 
less thought  that  he  was  truly  converted,  and  he 


74  VICE    PROGRESSIVE. 

led  for  some  time  a  life  of  apparent  devotion.  In 
about  a  year,  however,  it  was  noticed  that  he  was 
irregular  iu  his  attendance  on  public  worship,  and 
painful  rumors  of  his  delinquency  reached  the 
ears  of  his  brethren  ;  who  could  not  watch  over 
him  strictly  on  account  of  the  distance  at  which 
he  lived.  Having  become  of  age,  he  had  left  his 
father's  house  and  was  employed  upon  the  railroad 
near  by.  Here  he  fell  in  with  wicked  compan- 
ions ;  some  of  whom  were  already  steeped  in  vice. 
He  began  to  neglect  his  Bible  and  his  customary 
scenes  of  devotion,  and  to  suspect,  what  was  prob- 
ably the  fact,  that  his  religion  had  been  more  a 
matter  of  excitement  than  of  principle.  Away 
from  Christian  influences,  surrounded  by  profane 
and  licentious  companions,  he  gradually  became 
profane  and  licentious  himself.  These  facts  be- 
ing ascertained  by  the  church,  every  effort  was 
made  to  induce  him  to  return  to  his  duty ; — but 
whether  through  shame,  or  from  a  premature  har- 
dening in  guilt,  he  refused  to  hold  any  communi- 
cation with  the  church,  or  to  make  any  promise 
of  amendment,  and  was  therefore  excommunicated. 
"  It  seems  difficult  to  account  for  this  sudden  fall ; 
but  it  occurred  substantially  as  follows  : — Return- 
ing from  work,  one  evening,  he  casually  stopped  for 
a  moment  by  a  house  of  evil  resort,  which  his  com- 
panions, who  were  familiar  with  the  place,  proposed 
that  he  should  go  in  with  them.  At  first  he  hes- 
itated, but  curiosity  on  the  one  hand,  and  ridicule 
on  the  other,  overcame  his  scruples.  He  went, 
however,  as  a  mere  spectator ;  and  as  he  saw  at 
once  the  grossest  forms  of  vice,  he  soon  left  the 
place  in  disgust,  thinking  that  he  would  never  enter 
it  again.  But,  alas  !  he  knew  not  his  own  weak 
ness.  He  had  dallied  with  temptation.  Had  he 


VICE    PROGRESSIVE.  7fi 

remembered  that  lesson  of  the  Sabbath  School, 
My  son,  if  sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thoT*.  not,  he 
would  have  stopped  his  ears  against  his  tempt- 
ers, and  have  escaped  for  his  life.  But  no ;  ho 
would  venture  a  little  farther  ;  he  would  see  for 
himself — confident  of  self-control.  And  what  was 
the  result  ?  While  he  was  disgusted  he  was  in- 
flamed. He  had  looked  in  at  the  gate  of  hell  and 
had  taken  fire  before  he  could  retreat.  What  he 
saw  was  an  exhibition  of  human  passions,  and  he. 
had  passions  that  could  revel  in  just  such  scenes. 
'  Can  a  man  take  fire  in  his  bosom,  and  his  clothes 
not  be  burned  ?  Can  one  go  upon  hot  coals,  and 
his  feet  not  be  burned  ?'  So  it  was  with  that 
young  man.  He  came  away  shocked  in  his  moral 
sense,  but  excited  in  his  passions ;  and  he  went 
again  to  that  den  of  infamy,  of  his  own  accord.  In 
consenting  to  go  there,  even  from  curiosity,  he 
broke  away  from  the  most  powerful  restraints,  and 
he  was  obliged,  at  the  first,  to  plunge  deep  into  the 
abyss,  to  quench  the  light  of  truth  and  grace  that 
had  burned  within  him  from  his  earliest  yeara. 
His  parents  sought  him,  again  and  again,  but  ob- 
tained from  him  only  promises  of  amendment, 
which  were  never  kept. 

"  He  was  cut  off  from  the  church  in  September, 
1844  Two  weeks  ago  to-day  I  knelt  in  that  mur- 
derer's cell,  in  company  with  his  parents,  sister 
and  brother,  who  had  come  for  their  last  interview 
with  him  on  earth.  That  narrow  cell  was  more 
solemn  than  the  grave  itself.  Two  weeks  ago  to- 
morrow I  saw  the  youth  who  had  once  been  of  my 
spiritual  flock,  upon  the  scaffold.  It  was  an  awful 
scene ;  it  haunts  me  in  my  sleep  ,  my  heart  sick» 
ens  at  the  remembrance  of  it,  and  I  shudder  to 
speak  of  what  I  hardly  dared  to  look  upon. 


76  VICE  PROGRESSIVE. 

"  About  a  hundred  persons,  principally  civil  and 
military  officers,  are  assembled  in  the  yard  of  the 
prison,  which  is  carefully  screened  from  all  with- 
out. The  clear  blue  sky  is  overhead,  the  bright 
gun  is  shining,  but  the  air  seems  stifled,  and  men 
breathe  heavily  and  slow. 

"  Upon  a  scaffold  some  ten  feet  high  stands  the 
youthful  criminal,  in  the  habiliments  of  death.  H« 
makes  a  brief  address,  he  hears  a  parting  prayer , 
he  bids  adieu  to  those  around,  the  knot  is  tied,  the 
face  is  covered :  the  spring  is  touched — the  trap 
falls — and  all  is  ended.  No,  all  is  not  ended  :  but 
we  must  leave  him  with  his  Judge." 

In  the  exhortation  with  which  the  preacher  con- 
cluded his  discourse,  he  thus  feelingly  addresses 
the  young : 

K  I  know  your  dangers,  for  my  own  youth  was 
spent  in  a  great  city,  and  I  have  sailed  till  my  head 
was  dizzy  on  the  outer  edge  of  that  whirlpool, 
where  some  of  you  may  soon  be  struggling  for  your 
Tery  life.  Alas  !  the  dead  are  there  ;  and  I  come 
to  you  charged  with  a  message  from  the  dead.  Do 
you  say  that  this  case  is  peculiar  ?  I  admit  it. 
But  how  is  it  peculiar  ?  Are  you  the  son  of  pious 
parents  ?  So  was  he.  Have  you  been  trained  in 
a  Sabbath  School  ?  So  was  he.  More  than  this ; 
he  had  thought  that  he  was  a  Christian.  The  case 
K  peculiar  in  that  it  shows  that  every  moral  bar- 
rier  may  be  overleaped  by  lust ;  it  warns  every 
one  who  thinketh  he  standeth  to  take  heed  lest  he 
fall. 

'•  Oh !  that  you  could  have  heard  the  warning 
of  that  wretched  young  man,  from  the  scaffold. 
1  You  know,'  said  he,  v  how  I  was  brought  up.  I 
had  the  best  instructions  a  Christian  father  could 
give.  0  if  I  had  followed  them,  I  should  hava 


VICE    PROGRESSIVE.  T* 

been  over  yon  mountain,  in  my  dear  father's  home. 
But  temptation  led  me  astray,  and  I  have  come  to 
this.  I  hope  now,  as  I  leave  this  world,  my  voice 
will  warn  all  young  men.  Our  desires  and  pas- 
sions are  so  strong,  that  it  requires  very  little  to 
lead  us  astray.  I  want  to  urge  it  upon  all  young 
men  never  to  take  the  first  step  in  such  a  career 
as  mine.  When  the  first  step  is  taken  in  the  paths 
of  sin,  it  is  difficult  to  stop.1  His  '  first  step  '  was 
a  desperate  leap,  from  which  he  could  not  recover  j 
yours  may  be  less  marked,  a  sliding,  as  it  were, 
down  an  inclined  plane.  I  warn  you  of  it ;  I  warn 
you  against  idleness,  the  parent  of  vice,  the  parent 
of  those  evil  imaginings  that  make  the  soul  the 
cage  of  unclean  birds.  I  warn  you  against  evil 
books,  however  fascinating  ;  against  company,  how- 
ever gay  and  tempting.  '  Enter  not  into  tbe  path 
of  the  wicked,  and  go  not  in  the  way  of  evil 
men  ;  avoid  it,  pass  not  by  it,  turn  from  it,  and 
pass  away.'  I  warn  you  against  vain  amusements 
and  places  of  evil  resort ;  against  the  theatre,  the 
ball-room,  the  drinking  club,  the  gaming  table.  I 
warn  you  of  the  wiles  of  her  who  lieth  in  wait  at 
the  corners  of  the  streets.  '  Let  not  thine  heart 
incline  to  her  ways ;  go  not  astray  in  her  paths. 
For  she  hath  cast  down  many  wounded,  yea  many 
strong  men  have  been  slain  by  her.'  I  warn  you 
to  cleave  to  God's  testimonies,  and  walk  in  his 
ways.  As  I  stood  beneath  t  at  scaffold,  the  pain* 
ful  thought  crossed  my  min  a,  Has  any  omission  of 
duty  on  my  part  towards  this  young  man  contrib- 
uted in  any  manner  to  his  end  ?  I  resolved,  that 
at  least  no  other  youth  under  my  ministry  shouH 
come  to  such  an  end  unwarned  by  me.  And  I  am 
here  to-night  to  fulfil  that  vow,  to  discharge  my 
eoul  of  its  heavy  responsibility  to  you.  young  men. 


79  THE    AGED    SAILOR 

I  warn  you,  therefore,  in  bis  name ;  I  warn  yon 
by  the  memory  of  that  dreadful  scene  ;  I  warn 
you  before  God,  MOST  HIGH — your  JUDGE  and 
mine  And  if  there  be  a  deeper  note  of  warning 
Btill,  I  will  be  silent,  that  it  may  come  to  you  from 
the  chambers  of  the  dead — from  the  ABYSS  OF  WOE." 


THE  AGED  SAILOR  ENTERING  THE  HARBOR. 

"  THE  events  of  our  early  years,  while  passing, 
seem  to  us  of  little  importance,  further  than  con- 
cerns our  own  childish  interests.  It  is  the  play- 
day  of  our  existence,  and  the  due  estimation  of  its 
importance  is  reserved  for  after  years.  In  mature 
age  we  often  meet  with  scenes  which  transport  ua 
back  to  childhood,  and  develop  the  consequences 
of  events  apparently  so  trivial.  The  truth  of  these 
remarks  will  be  illustrated  by  the  narrative  I  am 
about  to  give  of  an  aged  sailor. 

"  When  a  school-boy,  I  used  to  pass  his  house 
on  my  way  to  the  place  of  instruction.  He  lived 
about  midway  between  my  father's  dwelling  and 
the  school-house,  and  on  a  cold  winter  morning 
I  frequently  called  to  warm  my  chilled  fingers. 
Whenever  my  sailor  friend  was  at  home,  he  gave 
me  a  welcome  recepron,  and  entertained  my  won- 
dering fancy  with  hi&  talcs  of  the  sea.  I  became 
quite  attached  to  him,  and  the  attachment  was 
\  mutual.  In  the  lapse  of  years,  the  school-boy  be- 
came  a  clergyman,  and  the  sailor  became  old  and 
weather-beaten.  A  dissipated  life,  with  the  storms 
ot  the  ocean,  and  an  occasional  shipwreck  had 
down  his  hardy  constitution,  and  now,  no 


ENTERING    THE    HARBOR.  7* 

longer  '  seaworthy,'  he  was  cast,  poor  ami  miser* 
ble,  upon  the  land,  like  a  thing  shattered  and  driv- 
en ashore  by  the  tempest.  In  consequence  of  his 
wicked  life  and  infirmities,  he  was  abandoned  by 
his  old  employers,  and  came  home  on  foot,  without 
money,  and  almost  without  clothing.  On  his  arri- 
val, he  was  so  filthy  in  his  appearance  that  none 
desired  his  society ;  and  he  wandered  about  in  a 
kind  of  partial  derangement,  calling  aloud  on  the 
inhabitants  as  he  passed  their  dwellings,  at  dead 
of  night,  to  awake  and  repent.  Soon  after  this 
time,  his  old  friend  the  school-boy  returned  from 
a  missionary  tour,  to  spend  a  few  days  in  his  na- 
tive town.  He  was  told  that  the  old  Captain  was 
confined  chiefly  to  his  bed,  in  great  distress  of 
mind,  despairing  of  salvation.  The  scenes  of  my 
chilhood  burst  afresh  upon  me — the  winter's  fire, 
iny  sailor  friend,  and  his  enchanting  tales  of  the 
sea.  I  went  immediately  to  see  him.  He  lay  in 
a  apartment  indicating  poverty  and  distress,  but 
he  heeded  no  longer  external  circumstances ;  he 
was  pondering  the  loss  of  his  soul.  The  clergy- 
man of  the  parish,  and  some  Christians,  had  told 
him,  unscripturally,  that  his  life  had  been  such 
that  probably  no  mercy  remianed  for  him.  I 
found  him  believing  their  erroneous  counsel,  and 
tossing  in  the  agonies  of  despair.  '  Oh.'  said  he, 
'  I  am  a  poor,  old,  weather-beaten  sailor,  tossing 
about  in  the  storm,  and  I  can't  find  a  harbor. 
There  is  no  mercy  for  such  an  old  sinner.'  'Don't 
gay  that,'  I  replisd :  '  how  do  you  know?'  a*nd  I 
took  down  his  old  canvas-covered  Bible,  and  began 
to  read  of  Paul,  of  Peter,  of  David,  and  of  the 
great  mercies  of  the  Lord  to  the  chief  of  sinners. 
'  i low?'  said  he,  'do  you  say  I  can  be  saved?' 
'  Yes,  if  you  come  to  Christ,  for  he  is  able  and 


80  THE    AGED   SAILOR,  ETC. 

willing  tc  save  tin  chief  of  sinners,  if  they  repent 
and  believe.'  (  You  are  the  first  man  that  told 
me  that,'  he  exclaimed :  '  the  first  man  that  told 
me  I  could  be  saved.'  While  a  beam  of  hope 
lighted  up  his  dejected  visage,  I  assured  him  that 
it  was  not  too  late  for  the  returning  prodigal.  He 
believed  my  testimony,  and  with  all  the  frankness 
and  ardor  characteristic  of  his  profession,  began  to 
confess  his  sins,  and  lift  up  his  prayer  to  Him, 
who  walked  upon  the  waves,  and  quieted  the 
stofmy  sea.  In  this  state  of  mind,  I  left  him,  and 
soon  called  to  see  him  again.  He  was  still  in  the 
dark,  but  anxiously  striving  for  entrance  at  the 
strait  gate.  I  described  in  a  simple  manner  the 
path  of  life  ;  directed  him  to  the  abundant  conso- 
lations for  the  penitent;  commended  him  to  God, 
and  was  about  to  retire,  when  he  stopped  me. 
'How  mysterious  it  is!'  he  said:  'a  little  while 
ago  you  was  a  school-boy,  and  stopped  to  warm 
your  binds  at  my  fire  :  I  little  thought  then,  that 
you  would  be  a  minister,  and  come  here  to  show  a 
poor  old  sinner  how  to  be  saved.  I  wonder  how 
you  can  condescend  to  visit  such  a  miserable  old 
creature.'  His  thankfulness  was  affecting  from  its 
fulness  and  simplicity ;  and  I  stole  away,  lest  I 
should  be  tempted  to  receive  the  praise  which 
belongeth  to  God  alone. 

'•'  On  my  third  visit,  I  found  the  old  mariner  full 
of  joy.  He  had  found  the  harbor.  The  Great 
Pilot  had  appeared,  and  conducted  his  weather- 
beaten  bark  into  the  port  of  peace.  He  lived  but 
a  short  time,  and  departed  with  the  full  assurance 
of  leaving  a  stormy  ocean,  for  the  haven  of  eternal 
rest.  I  love  to  dwell  on  the  story  of  his  life,  and 
conversion,  and  happy  exit.  Rich  was  the  grace 
bestowed  in  the  hour  of  need  ;  and  fully  was  illua- 


BETHEL    SUMMARIES.  81 

trated  the  truth,  that  the  chief  of  sinners  may  Ixi 
Baved.  Hallowed  now  are  those  scenes  of  my 
childhood.  I  can  never  forget  the  school-boy,  the 
winter  fire,  and  my  sailor  friend." 

Mag.    '  M. 


THERE'S  HOPE  FOR  THEE. 

A  Sailor's  Hymn. 

"  BLEST  be  that  voice,  now  heard  afar, 

O'er  the  dark,  rolling  sea, 
That  whispers  to  the  hardy  tar, 
'  Sailor,  there's  hope  for  thee !' 

"  Blest  be  that  pure,  that  Christian  love, 

That  boundless  charity, 
Which  bears  the  olive  like  the  dove, 
Brave,  generous  tar,  for  thee. 

"  Blest  be  those  lips,  in  accents  mild, 

From  sordid  motives  free, 
That  tirst  proclaimed  to  Ocean's  child, 
1  Sailor,  there's  hope  for  thee.1 

"  Long  hadst  thou  rode  the  foamy  wave, 

From  sin  nor  danger  free, 
Till  mercy  stretch 'd  her  arm  to  save- 
To  save,  brave  sailor,  thee. 

Sailor's  Magazine. 


BETHEL  SUMMARIES. 

Communicated  by  Rev.  H.  Chase,  Seamen's  Preacher. 

"  A  SEAMAN  called  on  me,  and  gave  the  follow- 
ing account  of  the  conversion  of  two  officers  on 

board  the  ship ;  himself,  and  the  sou  of 

captaiu  J. 


82  BETHEL    SUMMARIES. 

"  Mr.  H  said  he  was  twenty-five  years  oli,  and 
had  followed  the  sea  fourteen  years.  He  was  very 
wild  and  unsteady,  and  a  devoted  servant  of  sin, 
'previous  to  his  late  serious  impressions.  Aftel 
he  became  an  officer,  he  was  very  harsh  and  cruel 
to  his  men,  and  sometimes  his  conduct  was  even. 
that  of  a  tyrant.  At  one  time  he  had  carried  his 
tyranny  to  such  lengths  during  a  voyage,  that  he 
was  obliged  to  run  away  as  soon  as  he  got  in  port 
for  fear  of  a  process  at  law.  He  continued  in  a 
course  of  sin  and  dissipation,  not  however  without 
some  checks  of  conscience,  till  he  attended  a 
Bethel  meeting,  last  August,  on  board  the  Em- 
press, when  his  mind  became  seriously  impressed, 
by  the  prayers  and  exhortations  during  the  meet- 
ing. He  saw,  in  a  manner  that  he  had  never  seea 
before,  that  he  was  a  sinner  on  the  way  to  ruin  ; 
and  he  determined  on  the  spot  that  he  would  lead 
a  new  life.  He  soon  after  shipped  on  board  the 

ship ,  captain  J.,  bound  to .     During  the 

outward-bouud  passage,  he  endeavored  to  put  hia 
resolution  in  practice,  but  found  no  peace  of  mind. 
While  lying  in ,  the  second  mate,  (son  of  cap- 
tain J.)  a  young  man  about  nineteen  years  of 
age,  and  who  had  been  under  serious  impressions 
for  some  time,  invited  him  one  evening  to  go  with 
him  to  meeting,  but  he  declined  ;  and  after  spend- 
ing a  short  time  on  shore,  he  came  on  board  at  an 
early  hour,  and  retired  to  his  state-rocm.  Hera 
he  remained  some  time,  meditating  on  his  misera 
bio  condition,  and  his  awful  prospects  for  futurity. 
At  length  the  second  mate  returned  from  meet 
iug,  and  entered  the  state  room  in  the  greatest 
agony  of  mind,  crying,  '  Oh,  my  Saviour,  have 
mercy  on  me,  a  miserable  sinner.  Oh  Lord,  for- 
give my  sins.  Oh,  I  feel  the  Lord's  displeasure 


BETHEL    SUMMARIES.  88 

upon  me,  but  my  blessed  Saviour  died  for  me.' 
These  exclamations  and  petitions  were  mingled 
with  many  a  bitter  groan.  This  produced  a  pow- 
erful impression  on  the  mind  of  Mr.  H.,  and  to  use 
his  own  language,  it  went  to  his  heart.  And 
though  he  had  not  as  yet  experienced  the  grace 
of  God.  and  knew  little  of  the  way  of  salvation,  he 
endeavored  to  give  him  some  comfort,  by  telling 
him  to  seek  the  Lord,  for  he  had  frequently  heard 
Christians  say,  that  if  we  sought  the  Lord  with  all 
our  hearts  we  should  find  him.  The  second  mate 
then  went  to  his  own  state-room,  and  left  Mr.  H. 
to  weep  and  pray  over  his  own  miserable  condi- 
tion. At  length  Mr.  K  ,  after  many  a  melancholy 
reflection,  sunk  into  an  unsound  and  fitful  slum- 
ber. By  and  by  Mr.  J.  rushed  again  into  hia 
state-room,  in  the  greatest  ecstasy,  saying,  '  Oh ! 
Mr.  H.,  I  have  found  the  Lord, — Oh,  I  have  found 
my  dear  Saviour: — Glory  to  God,  he  has  had 
mercv  upon  me !' 

'•  Thus  the  Lord  was  graciously  pleased  to  set 
the  soul  of  this  young  man  at  liberty,  and  give 
him  that  peace  which  passeth  understanding. 

"  Mr.  H.  attended  the  meetings  several  times 

while  they  were  at ,  and  had  the  prayers 

of  God's- people  in  his  behalf,  but  he  obtained  no 
comfort.  He  felt  himself  a  vile  and  wicked  sin- 
ner, and  seemed  to  think  he  was  abandoned  both 
by  God  and  man.  He  thought  all  had  deserted 
him.  and  turned  against  him,  and  there  was  no 
comfort  for  him,  either  from  heaven  or  earth.  He 
could  sleep  but  little,  and  that  little  was  inter- 
rupted by  frightful  dreams.  Thus  was  the  Lord 
humbling  his  proud  heart,  and  preparing  him  for 
the  rich  displays  of  divine  grace.  One  thing  in 
particular  deserves  to  be  mentioned,  which  took 


84  BETHEL    SUMMARIES. 

place  while  they  were  lying  in ,  which  it 

much  to  the  credit  of  the  captain.  He  knew  what 
was  going  on  with  his  officers,  and  no  doubt  en- 
couraged them  to  seek  the  Lord.  One  Sabbath 
morning  Mr.  H.  ordered  the  men  to  get  the  buck- 
ets, to  wash  off  the  decks.  But  while  he  gave  the 
order,  he  felt  as  if  his  heart  would  sink  ;  he  hesi- 
tated ;  he  knew  that  it  was  the  holy  Sabbath  of 
the  Lord ;  and  he  would  rather  make  any  sacri- 
fice than  violate  the  Lord's  day.  However,  he 
Knew  what  was  his  duty  as  first  oflicer,  according 
to  the  common  usage  on  board  a  ship ;  and  he 
proceeded,  with  an  aching  heart,  to  perform  it. 
At  this  moment  the  captain  came  on  deck.  '  Mr. 
H.,'  said  he, '  the  decks  were  washed  off  last  night, 
were  they  not  ?'  '  Yes.  sir,'  was  the  reply.  '  Oh, 
well,  it  is  not  necessary  to  wash  them  now,  they 
are  clean  enough.'  Mr.  H.  felt  that  a  load  was 
removed  from  him.  and  with  a  light  heart  he  or- 
dered the  buckets  put  away. 

"While  he  was  in  this  painful  state  of  mind, 
the  ship  sailed  for  New  York.  He  generally 
spent  his  watch  below  in  reading  his  Bible,  and 
hymns,  and  praying  to  God  for  mercy  upon  his 
soul.  The  day  before  they  arrived,  during  his 
forenoon  watch,  he  was  lying  in  his  berth- reading 
the  Scriptures,  and  praying  that  he  might  have 
something  to  comfort  his  mind,  and  direct  him  in 
the  right  way.  In  the  course  of  his  reading,  he 
came  to  the  1 1th  chapter  and  24th  verse  of  Mark : 
'  Therefore  I  say  unto  you,  what  things  soever  ya 
desire,  when  ye  pray,  believe  that  ye  receive  them, 
and  ye  shall  have  them.'  Immediately  it  struck 
his  mind,  that  though  he  had  often  prayed,  he 
had  not  prayed  in  faith ;  he  had  not  believed  in 
Jesus  Christ  with  a  living  faith  ;  he  had  not  given 


KEY.  MR.  ABEEL'S  JOURNAL  AT  SEA,        85 

np  his  heart  to  the  Lord.  He  started  from  his 
berth  immediately,  threw  himself  upon  his  knees 
before  his  Saviour,  and  lifted  up  his  heart  in 
prayer  to  God.  The  Lord  helped  him ;  he  waa 
enabled  to  cast  himself  upon  the  mercy  of  God, 
»nd  Jesus  spoke  peace  to  his  soul.  He  felt  the 
burden  removed  from  his  heart,  and  then  for  the 
first  time  rejoiced  iu  the  God  of  his  salvation." 


REV.  MR.  ABEEL'S  JOURNAL  AT  SEA. 

«  Sabbatk,  Nov.  1,  1829.— The  most  delightful 
day  since  we  left  our  native  land.  Wind  and 
weather  favorable.  Sick  from  the  motion  of  the 
vessel,  but  much  improved,  and  what  is  far  more 
important,  public  worship  celebrated.  This  morn- 
ing our  cabin  was  consecrated  to  the  service  of  God. 
Et  was  thought  the  most  appropriate  place  in  the 
ship.  The  behavior  of  those  present  was  becoming, 
their  attention  riveted.  They  were  addressed  fa- 
miliarly on  the  talents  which  had  been  intrusted 
to  them,  the  obligations  under  which  they  are 
placed,  the  judgment  to  which  they  are  destined, 
and  the  consequences  of  profitably  employing,  or 
criminally  neglecting,  their  advantages.  In  the 
afternoon,  conversation  with  some  of  the  young 
men,  on  the  importance  of  personal  religion.  It 
was  gratifying  to  see  sailors  perusing  tracts  aftei 
service,  while  in  some  instances,  others  would  bt 
looking  over  their  shoulders,  either  reading,  or  lis 
tening  and  spelling. 

'•  Thursday,  Nov.  20,  1829.— This  afternoon.  1 

summoned  up  resolution,  and  made  a  visit  in  tlia 

forecastle.     I  did  apprehend  harsh  treatment  from 

gome,  who  have  openly  and  unblushingly  blasphemed 

8 


86        REV.  MR.  ABEEL'S  JOURNAL  &T  SEA. 

the  name  of  God  in  my  presence.  One  of  them 
had  been  indisposed  for  some  time,  and  I  conceived 
it  a  favorable  opportunity  of  conversing  with  him 
on  the  great  subject,  which  lie  neglected  in  health, 
and  to  which  God  s  afflictive  hand,  in  an  especial 
manner,  directed  his  attention.  As  I  entered  his 
apartment,  my  ears  were  assailed  with  oaths,  and 
instead  of  finding  the  sick  man  in  a  serious  mood, 
I  soon  ascertained  that  they  proceeded  from  his 
lips.  Pale,  emaciated,  and  enfeebled  by  disease,  I 
was  shocked  at  his  insensibility  and  hardihood,  and 
immediately  endeavored  to  convince  him  of  his 
guilt  and  danger.  I  remained  probably  an  hour 
conversing  with  him,  and  intentionally,  though 
without  a  direct  reference,  to  those  who  mingled 
with  us  Silence,  and  as  far  as  I  can  judge,  a  con- 
viction of  the  truth,  were  the  consequence. 

"  Nov.  '27th. — To-day  is  my  ordinary  visit  to  the 
apartment  of  the  sick  :  two  or  three  of  the  sailors 
came  in.  and  remained  with  us  some  time.  I 
addressed  them  with  such  remarks  and  questions  as 
I  thougiit  appropriate.  They  were  exceedingly 
•wicked,  as  1  had  witnessed  in  their  conversation 
and  conduct,  but  appeared  open  to  conviction,  and 
impressed  with  the  remarks  and  exhortations. 
Though  in  many  instances  greatly  depraved,  they 
are  by  no  nuans  destitute  of  fueling,  and  when 
addressed  with  earnestness  and  solemnity,  are  can- 
did in  acknowledgments  of  guilt,  and  fur  the  time, 
at  least,  apparently  convinced  of  the  need  of  refor- 
mation. 

"  Nov.  30. — Yesterday  we  enjoyed  our  estab- 
lished privilege  at  morning  and  afternoon  service. 
The  crew  were  generally  present,  and  especially  in 
the  afternoon.  Never  since  we  commenced  preach- 
ing, did  I  witness  such  fixed  attention  ;  and  nevei 


REV.    MR     ABEEL  S    JOURNAL    A'l    SEA  87 

siuce  we  sailed,  has  the  Sabbath  been  so  well 
observed.  To-day  I  received  a  note  from  OLG  of 
the  sailors,  desiring  an  interview,  with  a  special 
reference  to  religious  information.  As  it  bore  tho 
evident  marks  of  sincerity,  it  afforded  more  pleas- 
ure than  any  object  my  eyes  had  seen  during  the 
passage.  In  the  evening.  I  saw  the  young  man, 
by  whom  it  was  signed,  walking  the  decks  alone. 
When  he  saw  me  approaching,  he  waited  ;  and 
when  I  addressed  him.  unhesitatingly  entered  into 
conversation.  He  mentioned  that  his  attention 
had  been  previously  directed  to  religion,  by  a 
tract  which  he  read  during  the  last  voyage ;  but 
as  he  could  find  none  disposed  to  converse  on 
serious  subjects,  but  on  the  other  hand,  as  there 
was  a  disposition  prevalent  among  them  to  ridicule 
religion,  and  deride  its  adherents,  he  became  indif- 
ferent to  his  best  interest,  and,  on  his  return, 
yielded  to  the  temptations  which  beset  the  homeless 
mariner.  Within  the  last  week,  his  convictions 
have  revived.  He  feels  the  necessity  of  religion, 
but  finds  his  heart  a  stone.  He  inquired  with 
anxiety,  whether  there  was  a  class  of  human  beings 
for  whom  there  was  no  salvation.  His  sins,  and 
particularly  the  aggravated  guilt  of  resisting  the 
Holy  Spirit  and  stifling  strong  convictions,  proba- 
bly suggested  the  idea. 

"  The  more  I  converse  with  seamen,  the  more  I 
am  impressed  with  the  indispensable  necessity  of 
having  a  revolution  in  their  boarding  system  on 
shore.  The  evil  is  deprecated  not  only  by  tho 
officers,  but  also  by  the  deluded  sailors,  when  calm 
reflection  succeeds  the  hours  of  revelry  passed  in 
these  haunts  of  vice.  They  are  the  very  gates  of 
destruction  standing  open.-  While  they  afford  to 
infernal  spirits,  a  free  access  to  the  heart  of  the 


88      SHE  BEING  DEAD,  YET  SPEAKETH. 

infatuated  seamau,  they  conduct  their  unguarded 
captive  by  a  short  passage  to  hell.  Here  those 
reflections  that  might  lead  to  repentance,  are  de- 
barred from  the  mind  ;  or,  if  entertained,  effectually 
expelled.  This  influence  has  been  exerted  upon 
the  poor  young  man,  whose  heart  is  now  alive  to 
remorse  :  he  continued  serious,  however,  and  sub- 
sequently gave  evidence  of  piety." 


"SHE  BEING  DEAD,  YET  SPEAKETH." 

IN  presenting  the  first  annual  report  of  the  Fe- 
male Bethel  Society  of  Newburyport,  we  have  to 
record  the  death  of  one  of  its  most  valued  members 
(Miss  Frances  Davenport;)  one,  whose  warmest 
sympathies  were  enlisted  in  the  cause,  and  whose 
active  co  operation  gave  an  efficiency  to  this  so- 
ciety, such  as  is  seldom  the  result  of  individual 
effort.  Long  after  disease  had  marked  her  for  ita 
victim,  and  when  unable,  through  weakness,  to 
converse  on  other  subjects,  her  interest  in  the  sail- 
or was  unabated,  and  her  last  efforts  were  made  in 
his  behalf.  Noticing  from  the  window  of  her 
room,  on  a  pleasant  Sabbath  morning,  a  company 
of  sailors,  she  at  once  availed  herself  of  the  oppor- 
tunity to  distribute  among  them  some  tracts  which 
she  had  previously  selected.  In  attempting .  to 
throw  them  from  the  window,  one  was  taken  by 
the  wind,  and  carried  into  an  adjoining  field  ;  and 
as  she  stood  anxiously  watching  its  fate,  she  caught 
the  eye  of  one  of  the  company,  who,  observing  her 
emaciated  appearance,  seemed  eager  to  possess  the 
treasure,  which  she  had  been  at  so  much  paius  to 


SHE    B^ING    DEAD,  VET    SPE.lKETH.  89 

bestow,  and  losing  no  time,  he  leaped  over  the 
fence,  and  soon  made  it  his  own.  Her  thoughts 
followed  that  sailor,  and,  in  alluding  to  the  circum- 
stance afterwards,  she  expressed  the  hope,  that  it 
might  prove  the  means  of  his  salvation.  Let  th« 
motto,  then,  which  we  would  inscribe  to  her  mem- 
ory, serve  as  a  memorial  for  future  years,  from 
which  to  date  our  onward  progress  :  thus  borrowed 
from  eternity,  the,  hallowed  fire,  with  which  to 
animate  our  zeal  and  enkindle  our  offerings.  Our 
own  souls  being  lighted  at  the  altar,  we  may  light 
the  lamp  of  many  a  weary  traveller  over  the  path- 
less ocean,  who,  amidst  the  shoals  and  quicksands, 
has  none  to  guide  his  little  bark,  or  point<him  to 
the  port  of  safety.  "  That  unseen  eye,  which 
watches  over  the  fall  of  the  sparrow,  with  far  more 
scrutinizing  gaze,  is  fixed  upon  the  homeless  mari- 
ner ;  and,  as  the  threatening  wave  is  lifted,  ready 
to  devour,  the  voice  of  supplication  reaches  his  ear, 
and  the  raging  tempest  ceases : — or  the  heavenly 
mandate  has  perhaps  extended  farther  than  the 
depth  of  the  ocean,  breaking  the  slumbers  of  the 
soul,  and  awakening  it  from  its  fatal  repose.  Rest- 
ing now,  upon  the  arms  of  Omnipotence,  he  heeds 
not  the  rolling  billow,  for  the  footsteps  of  his 
Saviour  are  there  ;  and,  like  Peter,  in  all  the  ardor 
of  attachment,  he  is  ready  to  mount  the  surge,  if 
he  might  discern  a  distant  approach.  Truly,  "  His 
way  is  in  the  sea,  his  path  in  the  deep  waters." 
"  In  the  fourth  watch  of  the  night,  Jesus  came, 
walking  upon  the  water:"  PO  ready  was  he  to  admin- 
ister to  the  relief  and  comfort  of  his  disciples,  and 
so  ready  is  he  now  to  answer  the  prayers  of  hw 
people  if  offered  to  him  in  sincerity  Leaning  then 
upon  Almighty  strength,  and  planting  one  foot 
Upon  the  promises,  what  may  not  this  infant  society 
8*  , 


90  MADNESS    FROM    STRONG    DRINK. 

accomplish?  How  mauy  of  the  sons  of  the  ocean 
would  throng  the  temple  gates  of  Zion  ?  '•  bringing 
their  silver  and  their  gold  with  them,  as  an  offer- 
ing unto  the  Lord,  as  a  thaiik-oifering  to  his  Holy 
Name." 


SAILOR'S  HYMN. 

"Toss'o  upon  life's  raging  billow, 

Sweet  it  is,  O  Lord,  to  know 
Thou  didst  press  a  sailor's  pillow, 

And  canst  feel  a  sailor's  woe. 
Never  slumbering,  never  sleeping, 

Though  the  night  be  dark  and  drear, 
Thou  the  faithful  watch  art  keeping, 
1  All,  all's  well,'  thy  constant  cheer. 

"And  though  loud  the  wind  is  howling, 

Fierce  though  flash  the  lightnings  red  ; 
Darkly  through  the  storm — clouds  scowling 

O'er  the  sailor's  anxious  head  : — 
Thou  canst  calm  the  raging  ocean, 

All  its  noise  and  tumult  still ! 
Hush  the  tempest's  wild  commotion, 

At  the  bidding  of  thy  will. 

"  Thus  my  heart  the  hope  will  cherish, 

While  to  thee  I  lift  mine  eye ; 
Thou  wilt  save  me  ere  I  perish. 

Thou  wilt  hear  the  sailor's  cry. 
And  though  mast  and  sail  be  riven, 

Life's  brief  voyage  will  soon  be  o'er, 
Safely  moor'd  in  heaven's  wide  haven, 

Storm  and  tempest  vex  no  more." 


MADNESS  FROM  STRONG  DRINK. 

MR.  SCROESBY,  chaplain  of  the  Liverpool  (Eug 
land)  Mariner's  Church,  has  written  '•  Au  addreef 


WHO    SLEW   THESE  ?  91 

to  Seamen,  on  Improvidence  and  Intemperance. 
The  following  are  extracts  from  it 

"  As  to  lunacy  or  madness,  it  is  an  important 
and  awful  fact,  that  the  great  majority  of  cases  of 
this  distressing  disease,  are  clearly  ascertained  to 
be  the  consequence  of  drunkenness.  A  distin- 
guished friend  of  my  own,  in  the  medical  profes- 
sion, who  has  had  extensive  experience  in  respect 
to  this  malady,  declares,  that  more  than  one-half, 
and  probably  three-fourths  of  the  cases  of  lunacy 
which  have  come  under  his  notice,  were  produced 
by  excessive  drinking !  And  at  a  meeting  of  the 
Middlesex  magistrates,  for  considering  the  cause 
and  remedy  of  the  dreadful  evils  of  drunkenness, 
it  was  stated,  that  about  a  year  ago,  there  were  825 
wretched  inmates  in  the  '  Pauper  Lunatic  Asy- 
lum.' but  they  had  of  late  increased  to  1,200, 
which  was  mainly  attributable  to  gin  drinking ! 
A  similar  result,  which  too  satisfactorily  corrobo- 
rates what  has  already  been  stated,  is  obtained 
from  the  intelligent  governor  of  the  Liverpool  Lu- 
natic Asylum.  In  four  years.  495  patients  were 
admitted  into  the  Asylum,  of  which  number,  it  haa 
been  sufficiently  ascertained,  that  there  were  257 
at  least,  who  had  brought  on  their  derangement  by 
ezccesive  drinking." 


WHO  SLEW  THESE? 

man,  when  in  a  state  of  intoxication,  fell 
into  the  '  hot-water  tub'  of  a  brewer,  and  waa 
scalded  to  death ;  and  several  different  persona 
fell  into  the  docks  or  river,  whilst  drunk,  and  were 


02  WHO    SLEW    THESE  ? 

drowned.  A  female,  having  been  drinking  in  a 
public  house,  received  an  injury  in  a  quarrel,  of 
which  she  almost  immediately  died ;  another  wo- 
man, much  addicted  to  drinking,  was  burnt  to 
death ;  another  of  similar  habits,  when  '  appa- 
rently tipsy,1  jumped  out  of  a  window  and  waa 
killed  !  One  man  met  with  death  by  drinking  in 
a  very  extraordinary  manner.  Leaning  on  the 
eide  of  a  puncheon  of  rum  lying  on  the  side  of  one 
of  the  docks,  he  indulged  himself  in  the  stolen 
draught,  by  sucking  it  through  a  reed,  the  effect 
of  which  was  almost  immediately  fatal.  Another 
man,  who  had  been  very  much  intoxicated  the 
night  before,  under  the  depression  of  returning 
sobriety,  cut  his  throat ;  and  another  of  similar 
habits  hanged  himself!  One  person,  in  a  more 
respectable  situation  of  life,  '  died  of  a  disease  of 
the  lungs,  hurried  on  by  excessive  drinking.'  Two 
boatmen,  in  a  drunken  quarrel  on  the  river,  fell 
overboard,  and  were  drowned.  One  individual, 
when  half  intoxicated,  fell  only  from  the  steps  iu 
front  of  a  house,  and  was  killed  on  the  spot.  An- 
other unhappy  man.  who  had  just  been  released 
out  of  jail,  went  almost  direct  to  a  public  house, 
and  drank  four  glasses  of  rum  ;  from  thence  he 
went  home  and  took  some  supper,  but  with  a  thirst 
irresistibly  excited  by  his  previous  drinking,  he 
proceeded  again  to  the  scene  of  his  self-indulgence, 
a^d  such  was  the  effect,  that  on  his  return  to  his 
residence  he  fell  into  a  lethargic  sleep,  from  which 
he  never  awoke !  A  woman  accustomed  to  drink- 
ing, accompanied  a  sister  in  iniquity  to  a  social 
revel,  where  they  drank  till  intoxicated  :  then, 
returning  to  the  house  which  one  of  them  occu- 
pied, they  went  together  to  bed,  but,  during  the 
uight  one  was  takeu  to  an  eternal  world,  whilst 


INTEMPERANCE   AMONG   SEAMEN.  93 

the  other  slept!  Another  wretched  creature,  pur- 
suing the  same  destructive  habit,  was  returning  to 
her  house  in  a  state  of  drunkenness,  'when  she 
fell  into  the  opening  of  a  cellar  and  was  killed  on 
the  spot ! 


INTEMPERANCE  AMONG  SEAMEN. 

"  AND  the  great  day  of  account  will  bear  terri- 
ble witness,  when  the  '  sea  shall  give  up  the  dead 
that  are  in  it,'  of  the  vast  and  unsuspected  extent 
of  the  sacrifice  of  life  among  seamen,  from  ship- 
wrecks and  other  catastrophies,  occasioned  by 
drunkenness.  One  distressful  instance,  among 
the  numbers  that  will  hereafter  be  brought  to 
light,  occurred  within  my  own  observation.  A 
collier  brig  was  stranded  on  the  Yorkshire  coast, 
and  I  bad  occasion  to  assist  in  the  interesting  but 
distressing  service  of  rescuing  a  part  of  the  crew, 
by  drawing  them  up  a  vertical  cliff  two  or  three 
hundred  feet  in  altitude,  by  means  of  a  deep-sea 
lead  line,  the  only  rope  that  could  be  procured. 
The  first  two  men  who  caught  hold  of  this  slender 
line  were  hauled  safely  up  the  frightful  cliff;  but 
the  next,  after  being  drawn  to  a  considerable 
height,  slipped  his  hold,  and  he  fell ;  and  with 
the  fourth  and  last,  who  ventured  upon  this  only 
.  chance  of  life,  the  rope  gave  way,  and  he  also  was 
plunged  into  the  foaming  breakers  beneath  !  Im- 
mediately afterwards  the  vessel  broke  up,  and  the 
remnant  of  the  ill-fated  crew,  with  the  exception 
of  two,  who  were  washed  into  a  cavern  in  the  cliff, 
perished  before  our  eyes !  But  what  was  the  caus« 


94  NAVY 

of  this  heart-rend ing  event?  Was  it  stress  of 
weather,  or  bewildering  fog,  or  unavoidable  acci« 
dent  1  No  !  it  arose  entirely  from  the  want  of 
sobriety  ;  every  sailor,  to  a  mau,  being  in  a  state 
of  intoxication.  The  vessel,  but  a  few  hours  before, 
had  sailed  from  Sunderland  ;  the  men  being  drunk, 
n  boy.  unacquainted  with  the  coast,  was  intrusted 
with  the  helm :  '  he  ran  the  brig  upon  Whitby 
Rock,  and  one-half  of  the  miserable,  dissipated 
crew  awoke  to  consciousness  in  eternity  !  To  this 
solitary  instance,  I  might  add  many  more  ;  but 
this  must  suffice,  both  as  to  illustration  and  proof 
of  the  terrible  consequences  of  intemperance  at 
sea." — Scoresby's  Address. 


NAVY. 

WE  hear  it  frequently  said,  and  sometimes  when 
it  ought  not  to  be  said,  that  seamen  are  desperate- 
ly depraved  and  dissipated,  ignorant,  bigoted,  and 
hardeped  in  vice :  that  the  necessary  police  and 
discipline  of  a  ship  of  war,  is  adapted  to  humble 
them  to  meanness ;  to  destroy  every  vestige  of 
self-respect  and  manly  dignity  ;  and  consequently, 
to  depress  ambition,  and  confirm  these  deplorable 
habits  and  propensities.  And  it  is  pertinently 
asked,  "Under  such  circumstances  what  can  reclaim 
them  ?"  We  answer :  A  sovereign  remedy  for  all 
this,  opposing  difficulties  and  deeply-rooted  moral 
diseases,  is  an  enlightened  and  regular  ministration 
of  the  Gospel  of  Christ.  He  is  the  physician  wha 
has  prescribed  this  specific,  and  will  administer  it 
to  their  cure  if  it  be  furnished.  This  will  eulightea 


THE    CARTER    OF    DUNDEE.  95 

reform,  and  liberalize  officers  and  men.  Let  there 
be  no  alcohol  in  any  of  its  forms,  but  in  the  doc- 
tor's medical  stores :  let  flogging  be  suppressedr 
and  other  modes  of  punishment  substituted,  and 
regulated  by  courts-martial,  according  to  crime ; 
give  them  the  Bible,  the  Seamen's  Magazine,  and 
suitable  tracts ;  and  back  all,  by  sending  on  board 
of  every  ship  of  the  line,  every  frigate,  and  every 
sloop  of  war,  an  enlightened,  discreet,  evangelical, 
and  efficient  chaplain.  Let  the  schoolmaster,  in  all 
cases,  be  a  man  of  practical  godliness ;  and  then 
let  the  cabin  and  the  ward-room  countenance  and 
encourage  the  herald  of  the  cross,  and  you  have 
the  grand  catholicon,  which  will  soon  change  every 
ship's  company  into  as  moral.  Christian,  and  order- 
ly a  community,  as  any  of  our  country  societies 
generally  are  :  and  under  the  light  and  power  of 
divine  truth,  you  will  find  convictions  and  conver- 
sions as  frequent  in  the  navy,  in  proportion  to  their 
numbers,  as  you  will  ordinarily  in  all  our  congre- 
gations on  shore :  and  all  this  you  will  see  is  prac- 
ticable, and  of  easy  accomplishment. — Mr.  E. 
M-Laughlirfs  Letter  to  the  Secretary  of  the  A.  T> 
Society. 


THE  CARTER  OF  DUNDEE. 

To  Seamen. 

BROTHER  sailors  :  having  passed  a  good  part  of 
my  life  among  you,  I  really  feel  more  regard  for 
you  than  for  any  other  of  my  countrymen.  My 
early  recollections,  my  most  endearing  associations 
are  connected  with  your  profession;  and  I  shall 


96  THE    CARTER    OF    DUNDEE. 

never  in  this  life  covet  a  higher  or  more  honorable 
title,  than  that  of  an  honest  British  tar.  The 
character  of  the  British  sailor  is  esteemed  all  over 
the  world.  Shall  we  not  all,  as  individuals,  do 
what  we  can  to  render  ourselves  worthy  of  such  a 
profession  1  To  encourage  ourselves  in  some  mea 
sure  to  do  so,  is  the  aim  of  the  following  remarks . 

You  are  aware  that  spirit-drinking  is  very  pre- 
valent among  us.  Nothing  can  be  more  pernicious 
and  more  opposed  to  our  real  interest ;  leading  as 
it  does,  directly  to  poverty,  ignorance,  infamy,  dis- 
ease and  death.  In  consequence  of  the  habit  ac- 
quired by  many  of  us,  of  seeking  gratification  in 
the  use  of  intoxicating  liquors,  we  are  kept  in  con- 
tinual poverty,  not  only  by  the  expense  incurred 
in  perpetually  supplying  this  gratification,  but  by 
the  means  of  various  snares  and  temptations  to 
which  drinking  exposes  us,  particularly  in  the 
company  of  sharpers,  pickpockets,  and  impostors  ; 
for  you  well  know,  how  easily  seamen  in  a  state  of 
intoxication  are  robbed,  cheated,  and  flattered  out 
of  their  well-earned  and  far-sought  wages.  I  would 
beseech  you,  therefore,  to  think  of  the  dangers  to 
which  you  are  exposed;  to  the  hunger,  thirst,  cold, 
and  hardships  you  endure  in  obtaining  your  money; 
and  of  the  folly  and  stupid  madness  of  squander- 
ing it  away  on  an  article  like  ardent  spirits,  which 
is  not  only  useless,  but  pernicious. 

Perhaps  some  of  us  imagine,  that  ardent  spirits 
add  to  the  strength  of  our  bodies.  This  is  a  mia 
take.  There  is  nothing  in  them  according  to  th« 
most  eminent  doctors,  of  a  nourishing  property,  un- 
less it  be  the  portion  of  water  which  they  contain 
they  stimulate,  and  produce  an  excitement  for  a 
short  time ;  but  this  is  invariably  followed  by  a 
greater  or  less  degree  of  lassitude,  langor  and  fa- 


THE    CARTER    OF    DUNDEE.  97 

tigue ;  so  that  so  far  from  strengthening  the  body, 
they  absolutely  render  it  weaker,  and  at  last  cause 
disease  and  premature  old  age.  But  I  may  here 
appeal  to  the  personal  experience  of  many  of  my 
brother  sailors.  Do  you  not  enfeeble  your  bodies 
more  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  on  shore,  while 
you  are  spending  your  money,  than  you  did  in  the 
months  or  years  during  which  you  were  earning  it  ? 
Now,  keeping  out  of  sight  the  contagious  diseases 
you  are  exposed  to  from  your  vicious  companions ; 
the  dangerous  colds  brought  on  by  exposure  after 
intoxication  ;  the  many  wounds,  bruises,  and  inju- 
ries you  meet  with  by  falls,  fighting,  or  otherwise: 
I  say,  even  keeping  all  these  out  of  sight,  the  mero 
•habitual  use  of  spirits  brings  on  a  great  variety  of 
diseases,  and  very  often  leads  to  sudden  death,  be- 
cause they  give  a  strong  excitement  without  nour- 
ishment, and  drive  on  the  human  system  at  a 
quicker  rate  than  its  all-wise  Maker  intended.  The 
man  who  seeks  strength  by  the  use  of  ardent  spi- 
rits, acts  like  a  ship-master,  who,  when  his  ship  is 
tender  and  in  danger  of  upsetting,  sets  more  sail, 
in  order  to  relieve  her.  And  what  should  we 
think  of  the  man,  who  would  keep  us  constantly 
employed  in  setting  up  our  rigging,  adding  tackle 
to  tackle,  and  purchase  upon  purchase,  and  wring- 
ing it  down  without  relaxation  or  intermission  ? 
We  know  very  well,  that  however  strong  it  might 
be  at  first,  it  would  in  the  end  tumble  about  our 
ears.  The  same  foolish  conduct  with  respect  to 
our  bodies,  must  produce  the  most  disastrous  con- 
sequences. But  suppose,  that  after  we  have  carried 
a  press  of  sail  for  a  length  of  time,  our  rigging  be- 
comes slack,  and  that  after  having  been  long  at  sea, 
and  laboring  hard,  the  seams  of  our  vessel  have 
looseuo  1  and  widened,  and  that  she  has  in  conse- 
9 


98  THE   CARTER    OF    DUNDEE. 

quence  become  leaky,  would  we  carry,  more  sail  to 
lighten  our  rigging,  or  would  we  take  our  vessel 
iuto  a  heavier  sea  to  close  her  seams  and  stop  her 
leaks?  Yet  this  is  the  way  many  of  us  take  with 
our  bodies ;  when  we  are  overstrained  with  labor, 
we  driuk  ardent  spirits,  which  excite  us  still  more, 
and  even  sleep  in  such  circumstances  .yields  no  re- 
freshment. Is  it  not,  therefore,  the  height  of 
madness,  to  use  an  expensive  and  hurtful  excite- 
ment, for  which,  in  a  state  of  health,  there  is  no 
manner  of  necessity  ?  We  are,  in  fact,  capable  of 
undergoing  all  ordinary  fatigue  and  labor  with  the 
strength  conferred  upon  us  by  our  Creator,  and 
have  no  need  of  artificial  force. 

There  are  a  number  of  Christians  among  seamen, 
and  let  me  direct  the  attention  of  such  individu 
als  to  the  awful  consequences  of  intemperance  on 
those  around  them.  When  they  see  its  ravages 
even  in  this  life,  did  the  evil  go  no  farther,  they 
would  find  enough  to  awaken  the  kindest  sympa- 
thies, to  arouse  the  strongest  energies  of  their  na- 
ture, to  call  forth  their  Christian  love :  and  when 
they  see  the  people  among  whom  their  lot  is  cast, 
heedlessly  ru.«hiug  on  to,  and  madly  and  eagerly 
preparing  themselves  for  everlasting  destruction, 
how  great,  how  powerful  is  the  appeal !  They  will 
try  all  means ;  and  let  them  among  other  means 
form  Temperance  Societies.  Let  them  do  so  in 
the  name  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  although 
he  was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  became  poor,  that 
•we  through  his  poverty  might  become  rich.  Let 
them  become  instruments  in  the  hand  of  God.  to 
arrest  the  pestilence  which,  like  a  blasting  mildew, 
has  overspread  the  land,  and  will  continue  to  weak- 
en the  strength,  and  corrupt  the  morals  of  our  be- 
loved country.  Unless  the  temperate  unite  in  a 


THE    CARTKR    OF    DUNDEE.  9* 

item  and  unyielding  abstinence  from  this  body- 
and-soul-destroying  agent,  it  will  continue  to  ruin 
our  physical,  moral,  and  intellectual  energies,  and 
weaken  the  wooden-walls  of  old  England,  more 
than  the  dry-rot  of  her  timbers,  or  the  most  power- 
ful foreign  enemy.  Now,  my  dear  friends  and  fel- 
low-seamen, if  you  have  a  regard  for  your  own 
interest ;  if  you  have  any  respect  to  character ;  if 
you  have  any  attachment  to  those  around  you  ;  if 
you  are  lovers  of  your  country ;  if  you  love  your 
children  ;  and  above  all,  if  you  love  your  God,  1 
beseech  you  rally  round  the  standard  of  temper- 
ance, and  by  God's  blessing,  we  shall  be  the  meana 
of  working  to  his  glory  and  to  our  country1! 
good.-  -  Wm.  Cruickshank. 


ODE  TO  RUM. 

/ 

1  HATI.  !  mighty  Rum!  the  drunkard's  greatest  joy 
And  let  thy  praise  my  willing  pen  employ  : 
From  east  to  west  thy  mighty  deeds  are  known, 
From  humble  peasant  to  the  royal  throne. 
Where'er  thou  dost  thy  mighty  sceptre  sway, 
Obsequious  homage  all  thy  subjects  pay  ; 
To  thee  devote  their  bodies  and  their  souls, 
And  sing  thy  praise  around  their  flowing  bowl*. 
At  thy  command  both  sense  and  reason  fly, 
Riches  and  honor  pine  away  and  die : 
Domestic  peace  thou  hast  the  power  to  kill, 
Where  thou  dost  fix  thine  empire  in  the  will. 
Bath  kings  and  mighty  warriors  thou  hast  slain ; 
Made  prostrate  heroes  press  the  sanguine  plain  : 
Their  thousands  slain,  the  sons  of  Mars  may  bout, 
But  thou  hast  tens  of  thousands  in  thy  toast. 
Inspired  by  thee  thy  votaries  dare  to  face 
Pale  povjrty,  disease,  and  foul  disgrace  ; 
While  in  thy  service  they  are  not  dismayed, 
At  death  and  hell  in  awful  forms  portrayed. 


100  SANCTIFICATION    OF    THE    SABBATH. 

Thy  magic  power  can  clamorous  conscience  adit, 
And  banish  all  the  fears  of  future  ill ; 
And  those  who  serve  thee  faithful  to  the  end, 
Need  never  hope  to  find  a  better  friend." 
Sailor's  Magazine.  Aim  BACCHC*. 


HOW  THE  SABBATH  SIAY  BE  SANCTIFIED  AT  SEA. 

"REMEMBER  the  Sabbath-day  to  keep  it  holy.' 
The  Sabbath  is  to  be  remembered,  not  only  as  a 
day  of  bodily  rest,  that  it  be  not  profaned  ;  but  as 
a  day  of  spiritual  activity,  that  it  be  sanctified.  It 
is  not  enough  that  we  refrain  from  worldly  labor, 
for  our  ox  and  our  ass  may  do  that,  but  we  must 
engage  in  heavenly  duties.  For,  at  the  same  time 
it  is  our  duty  to  deny  ourselves  the  search  after 
worldly  pleasure  or  worldly  profit;  it  is  equally 
our  duty  to  seek  for  spiritual  enjoyments  and  the 
profit  of  the  soul.  And  whilst  we  are  called  upon 
to  distinguish  the  Sabbath-day  from  all  other  days, 
we  are  likewise  positively  charged,  if  we  would 
have  a  blessing  from  God  thereon,  to  "call  the 
Sabbath  a  delight,  the  holy  of  the  Lord,  honora- 
ble." 

Let  us,  then,  consider  how  we  may  so  hallow 
the  Sabbath,  that  we  may  glorify  God,  and  derive 
spiritual  blessings  for  ourselves.  These  two  things, 
indeed,  always  go  together.  If  we'  earnestly  seek 
the  glory  of  God,  we  certainly  shall  receive  bless- 
ings on  our  own  souls.  This  being  the  case,  we 
shall  principally  confine  our  remarks  to  the  means 
of  sanctifying  the  Sabbath  at  sea,  in  order  to  spiri- 
tual edification. 

Though  there  be  no  "  sound  of  the  church-going 


SANCTIFICATION    OF    THE    SABBATH.  101 

bell,"  to  call  you  to  the  duty  of  public  prayer ; 
though  you  have  no  sacred  temple  in  which  to  pre- 
sent yourselves  unto  the  Lord  ;  and  no  consecrated 
priest  to  minister  in  holy  things  ;  yet  it  is  as  much 
your  duty  to  remember  the  Sabbath  at  sea,  and  to 
endeavor  to  sanctify  it.  as  it  is  to  keep  it  holy  on 
shore,  And  I  must  be  free  to  tell  you,  th  .t  if  yoA 
excuse  yourselves,  the  Lord  excuseth  you  iOt.  19 
makes  no  exception  for  sailors.  Does  an_,  one  say, 
that  it  is  not  possible  to  serve  the  Lord  at  sea  ? 
We  cannot  keep  the  Lord's  day  holy  ?  We  cannot 
have  divine  service  on  each  returning  Sabbath  1 
Mistaken  friends,  allow  me  to  say  you  can.  The 
word  of  God  says  you  must.  If  you  cannot  serve 
God  at  sea,  you  ought  to  stay  on  shore.  If  your 
profession  prevents  you  from  being  good  Christians, 
holy  men,  let  me  tell  you,  it  is  a  bad  profession ! 
But  I  thank  God  it  is  otherwise.  Neither  your 
occupation  as  sailors,  nor  the  want  of  churches  to 
which  you  may  resort,  necessarily  prevents  you 
from  leading  a  holy  and  religious  life.  For  the 
Lord,  who  restricts  not  his  servants  to  approach 
him  only  in  houses  made  with  hands,  can  be  wor- 
shipped where  no  such  churches  exist,  afar  off  at 
sea,  even  as  on  shore.  Because,  "  wheresoever  two 
or  three  are  gathered  together  in  the  name  of 
Christ,"  there  hath  he  promised  to  be  in  the  midst ; 
there  is  a  church,  and  you  may  seek  and  expect  a 
blessing.  And  as  to  opportunity,  there  is  abun- 
dance if  you  would  improve  it :  if  you  have  the  will, 
you  will  find  the  way.  Gales,  or  dangers,  or  diffi- 
culties, though  they  occur  in  their  usual  course, 
will  seWom  prevent  your  waiting  on  God,  if  you 
be  in  earnest  about  this  important  duty.  And  this 
fact  I  can  speak  to  with  confidence,  because  I  hav« 
proved  it. 

9* 


102  SANC7IFICATIOJ*    OF   THE    SABBATH. 

In  a  voyage  (the  Greenland  whale  fishery,) 
much  more  perplexing,  and  much  more  subject  to 
Buddeii  embarrassments  and  dangers  than  the 
voyages  commonly  pursued,  I  have  known  public 
worship  to  be  carried  on  so  regularly,  that  never  a 
Sabbath  passed  over,  for  several  years  together, 
ithout  one  or  more  full  services  being  performed, 
almost  every  case,  indeed,  during  the  time  re- 
ferred to,  there  were  two  regular  services,  after  the 
form  of  the  Church  of  England,  including  the 
singing  of  psalms  and  the  reading  of  a  sermon, 
besides  short  prayers,  and  the  catechizing  of  the 
apprentices  in  the  evening.  During  these  voyages, 
severe  gales  have  commenced  on  the  Sunday  ;  dan- 
gers from  rocks,  ice,  and  lee  shores  have  threat- 
ened ;  frequent  embarrassments  from  thick  weather 
have  occurred ;  yet  time  and  opportunity  were 
always  found  for  the  worship  of  God.  The  success 
of  the  voyage  often  seemed  to  be  in  the  way  ;  duty 
to  the  owners  of  the  ship  seemed  to  forbid  ;  yet  we 
persevered  in  waiting  upon  God,  and  certain  I  am 
we  often  found  his  blessing.  In  a  few  instances, 
indeed,  the  usual  hour  of  worship  could  not  be 
exactly  kept ;  but  an  opportunity  has  always  been 
found,  of  having  each  of  the  two  services  in  succes- 
eion,  and  generally  the  third,  according  to  the  plan 
I  am  about  to  suggest : 

This  plan,  which,  on  account  of  its  practical 
efficiency.  I  can  confidently  recommend,  I  shall 
now  state  ;  and  may  He  whose  worship  and  honor 
it  is  designed  to  promote,  incline  the  heart  of  every 
reader  to  receive  it,  so  far  as  it  is  applicable  to  the 
voyage  and  circumstances  under  which  he  sails ; 
and  may  the  same  comfort  and  blessing-  b<!  derived 
from  the  adoption  of  it.  which  the  writer  himself 


SANCTIFICATION    OF    THE    SABBATH.  103 

and  his  little  church,  have  often  been  permitted  to 
experience. 

At  throe  bells,  (9-J-  A.  M.)  every  Sunday  morn 
ing,  the  hands  were  "  turned  up,"  to  prepare  them- 
selves for  the  forenoon  service  ;  then,  according  to 
the  state  of  the  weather,  or  the  accommodation  we 
had  in  the  ship,  the  church  was  either  "  rigged" 
upon  deck,  or  arrangements  made  for  divine  service  ' 
below.  At  eleven,  the  service  commenced,  and 
generally  concluded  a  few  minutes  after  twelve. 
From  the  calling  of  "all  hands"  until' this  time, 
every  mail  was  on  Sabbath-day  duty  ;  and  although 
no  one  was  made  to  join  in  the  prayers  against  his 
will,  yet  he  had  only  this  option,  to  watch  or  pray. 
Those,  therefore,  that  declined  to  worship  along 
with  us, — who  indned,  were  very  few, — kept  watch 
upon  deck,  and  were  under  the  direction  of  the 
officer  in  charge  of  the  ship,  for  the  performance  of 
any  necessary  duty  till  the  prayers  were  ended, 
and  then  the  watch  was  considered  to  be  again  set. 
4t  half-past  three,  (p.  M.)  the  watch  was  called, 
»nd  ten  minutes  afterwards,  afternoon  prayers 
commenced,  and  none  of  the  people  belonging  to 
either  of  the  watches  were  expected  to  retire  below 
until  the  service  was  ended.  By  this  arrangement 
the  morning  service  was  concluded  at  dinnc-:  time, 
and  the  hour  for  the  afternoon  service  was  taken 
equally  out  of  the  time  belonging  to  the  watches 
below.  Again,  at  half-past  seven,  the  apprentices, 
whom  I  considered  almost  as  a  filial  charge,  were 
called  below,  and  after  reading  by  alternate  verses, 
two  or  three  chapters  out  of  the  New  Testament, 
were  catechized  concerning  the  same.  And  then, 
this  evening  service  was  concluded  by  singing  and 
a  short  prayer.  This  service,  however,  was  not 
tonfineJ  -:o  the  apprentices  ;  any  of  the  sailors 


104  SANCTIFICATION    OF    THE    SABBATH. 

who  liked  to  join  us  came  down  at  the  striking  of 
seven  bells,  and  some  of  them  generally  took  theij 
turn  along  with  the  apprentices  in  the  reading  of 
the  Scriptures. 

Before  each  of  our  services,  whenever  the  wea< 
ther  was  at  all  unsettled,  the  ship  was  put  under 
somewhat  snug  sail,  and  the  deck  being  left  to  the 
charge  of  the  proper  officer  of  the  watch,  with  the 
assistance  of  the  helmsman,  all  the  rest  of  the 
crew,  or  nearly  all,  could  generally  be  spared  to 
join  in  the  public  prayers.  When,  indeed,  there 
was  any  probability  of  squalls,  or  of  any  change 
being  requisite  in  the  sails,  some  few  of  the  proper 
watch  were  placed  within  observation  of  the  proper 
officer  on  deck,  so  as  to  be  easily  called  up  without 
disturbing  their  comrades  ;  but  if  circumstances 
had  required,  though  for  several  years  no  such  case 
ever  occurred,  the  officer  had  orders  to  call  up  all 
the  hands  to  assist  him  ;  for  the  safety  of  the  ship, 
or  the  security  of  her  masts  and  sails,  is  such  a 
necessity,  as  will  well  justify  this  temporary  inter- 
ruption. 

Such,  my  seafaring  friends,  is  a  sketch  of  the 
plan  which  I  found  particularly  useful  and  practi- 
cable in  carrying  on  Sabbath-day  duties  at  sea.  I 
"•f i..  JLose  particulars  to  you,  by  way  of  hints  for 
your  assistance,  leaving  them  subject  to  such  modi- 
fications as  time  and  circumstances  may  require; 
yet  feeling  fully  assured  that  you  will  find  it  of 
great  advantage  to  begin  upon  some  plan,  other- 
wise unnecessary  difficulties  may  arise,  so  as  to 
discourage  you  from  persevering  in  that  duty, 
which  from  a  strong  conviction  of  its  vast  impor- 
tance, I  am  most  anxious  to  commend  to  you. 

Such  of  you,  my  brethren,  as  approve  of  whut 
has  been  advanced,  will  bear  jvith  mo,  while  I  oflei 


SAlfCTIFICATION    OF    THE    SABBATH.  105 

a  few  friendly  suggestions  by  the  way  of  further- 
iag  the  important  object  of  sanctifying  the  Sab- 
bath. To  this  end,  you  will  find  it  good  to  remem- 
ber it  before  it  arrives.  Prepare  for  the  day  of 
rest,  as  far  as  you  can,  on  the  Saturday.  Let  your 
men  have  time,  on  Saturday  evening,  for  those 
needful  acts  of  personal  cleanliness  which  are  bet- 
ter performed  then  than  in  the  morning,  so  that 
the  Lord's  day  be  not  unnecessarily  broken  in  upon 
by  these  preparations.  In  every  nautical  duty 
which  requires  attention  on  Sunday  morning,  bear 
in  mind  the  hours  fixed  for  divine  worship,  that 
every  work  that  can  possibly  be  anticipated  may 
be  completed.  If  your  flying  sails  be  taken  in, 
your  retirement  will  be  the  more  comfortable  and 
secure,  and  you  will  seldom  or  never  find  the  loss 
in  your  voyage.  "  The  Lord's  blessing  will  abun- 
dantly recompense  this  and  every  other  sacrifice 
made  for  his  sake."  Then  call  your  men  together, 
as  far  as  possible,  at  the  appointed  hour,  either  in 
the  cabin,  or  on  the  deck,  as  they  may  be  most  com- 
fortable or  convenient.  Let  the  morning  prayer 
then  be  read  with  solemnity  and  devotion  ;  the 
ehief  mate,  or  any  other  person  who  is  seriously 
disposed,  acting  as  clerk ;  and  after  the  prayers  it 
will  be  proper  and  useful  to  read  a  sermon. 

Again,~in  the  afternoon,  let  your  crew  and  pas- 
sengers, if  any,  have  the  opportunity  of  "  worship- 
ping the  Most  High  God,  who  made  the  heavens 
and  the  earth,  and  the  wide  sea.''  And,  whether 
it  be  convenient  to  have  auy  other  service  for  the 
benefit  of  your  apprentices  or  not,  you  will  find  it 
A  good  thing  thus  to  wait  upon  the  Lord :  you  will 
experience  a  benefit  temporally  as  well  as  spiritu- 
ally ;  your  people  will  be  more  orderly  and  respect- 
ful ;  and  Almighty  God  will  be  thy  defence  j  for 


1W  RELIGION    11V    SHIPS. 

then  thou  shalt  delight  thyself  in  the  "  Almighty 
and  shalt  lift  up  thy  face  unto  God ;  thou  shall 
make  thy  prayer  unto  him,  and  he  shall  hear 
fchee  " — Rev.  W.  Scoresby. 


RELIGION  IN  SHIPS. 

THE    DUTY  OF  CAPTAINS   TO  ENDEAVOR   TO  PROMOTE    RB» 
LIGION  IN  THE  SHIPS  UNDER  THEIR  COMMAND. 

BELIEVING  captains  !  the  spiritual  interest  of 
your  sailors  is  your  special  and  responsible  duty. 
Was  Eli,  and  the  house  of  Eli  judged  forever  for 
the  iniquity  which  Eli  knew,  when  his  sons  made 
themselves  vile,  and  he  restrained  them  not  ?  Was 
Abraham  specially  blessed,  because  he  commanded 
his  household  after  him,  that  they  should  keep  the 
way  of  the  Lord,  and  should  do  justice  and  judg- 
ment ?  Avoid  ye,  then,  the  curse  of  Eli,  by  neither 
neglecting  to  care  for  the  souls  of  your  sailors,  cor 
refusing  to  restrain  them  so  far  as  in  you  lies,  in 
unhallowed  courses  ;  seek  ye  the  blessing  of  Abra 
ham,  by  commanding  your  people  to  keep  the  day 
of  the  Lord  ;  to  honor  his  Sabbaths;  to  reverence 
his  holy  name ;  to  fear  an  oath  ;  and  to  exhibit 
that  correct  and  holy  example,  which  may  manifest 
to  the  remotest  regions  of  the  earth,  that  ye  are  a 
godly  people.  It  is  not  in  you,  indeed,  nor  in  the 
power  of  any  man,  to  make  a  wicked  crew  a  relig- 
ious people,  for  such  a  work  is  divine,  and  requires 
•She  pofcer  of  the  living  God;  but  it  is  in  your 
power  to  employ  those  means,  and  to  enforce  that 
example  which,  though  by  possibility  they  may 
fi&U  to  convert  your  crew3  will  not  fail  to  return  in 


LOOK    ALOFT.  107 

blessings  upon  your  own  souls.  For  be  assured, 
that  he  that  laborcth  for  the  honor  of  Christ,  shall 
not  lose  his  reward.  You  shall  have  comfort 
among  your  people  ;  you  shall  have  peace  in  your 
own  bosoms  ;  you  will  win  a  blessing  upon  your 
voyage ;  your  owners  and  merchants  will  be  blessed 
in  you ;  and  your  present  and  eternal  happiness 
wiH  be  greatly  promoted.  Thus  shall  you  be  ad- 
vancing your  temporal  good,  however  transient, 
and  laying  up  for  yourselves  treasures  in  heaven, 
where  neither  moth  nor  rust  doth  corrupt,  nor  any 
of  the  changes  or  misfortunes  of  this  mortal  life 
san  injure  or  destroy. — Rev.  W.  Scoresby. 


LOOK  ALOFT. 

'•  IN  the  tempest  of  life,  when  the  wave  and  the  gale 
Are  around  and  above,  if  thy  footing  should  fail, 
If  thine  eye  should  grow  dim.  and  thy  caution  depart, 
'  Look  alot't,'  and  be  firm  and  fearless  of  heart. 

"  Should  they  who  are  dearest,  the  son  of  thy  heart, 
The  wife  of  thy  bosom,  in  sorrow  depart, 
'  Look  aloft,'  from  the  darkness  and  dust  of  the  tomb, 
To  that  soil  where  affection  is  ever  in  bloom. 

"  If  the  friend  who  embraced  in  prosperity's  glow, 
With  a  smile  for  each  joy,  or  a  tear  for  each  woe, 
Should  betray  thee  when  sorrows  like  clouds  are  arrayed, 
'  Look  aloft'  to  the  friendship  which  never  shall  fade. 

*  Should  the  visions  which  hope  spreads  in  light  to  thine  eyq 
Like  the  tinU  of  the  rainbow,  but  brighten  to  fly, 
Then  turn,  and  through  tears  of  repentant  regret, 
'  Look  alctft'  to  the  sun  that  is  never  to  set. 

And  oh  !  when  death  comes  in  terrors  to  cast 
Hid  fears  on  the  future,  his  pall  on  the  past, 
H  that  moment  of  darkness,  with  hope  in  thine  baaii, 
«nd  a  smile  in  thine  eye,  '  Look  aloft,'  and  depart." 

Saitor's  Magazuu. 


108  THE    ETERNAL    SABBATH,  ETC. 


THE  ETERNAL  SABBATH. 

"THINE  earthly  Sabbaths,  Lord,  we 
But  there's  a  nobler  rest  above ; 
To  that  our  longing  souls  aspire, 
With  ardent  pangs  of  strong  desire. 

"  No  more  fatigue,  no  more  distress, 
No  sin  nor  hell  shall  reach  the  place  j 
No  groans  to  mingle  with  the  songs 
Which  warble  from  immortal  tongues. 

"  No  rude  alarms  of  raging  foes ; 
No  cares  to  break  the  long  repose  ; 
No  midnight  shade,  no  clouded  sun. 
Obscures  the  lustre  of  thy  throne 

"  Around  thy  throne,  grant  we  may  meet, 
And  give  us  but  the  lowest  seat ; 
We'll  shout  thy  praise,  and  join  the 
Of  the  triumphant,  holy  throng. 


FOR  MY  BIBLE. 

M  ALMIGHTY  Father,  Lord  o'er  all, 
In  mercy  hear  my  feeble  call ; 

And  now  thy  Spirit  give ; 
And  while  I  read  thy  sacred  page, 
Still  may  thy  word  my  grief  assuage 

And  teach  me  how  to  live. 

"*  O  may  it  be  my  guide  while  here, 
And  quickly  quell  each  raging  fear, 

While  on  thy  name  1  cry  ; 
A'hd  when  my  fleeting  hours  are  paat, 
Then  grant,  O  grant,  it  may  at  last 

Support  me  when  I  die. 


VOYAGE  OF  LIFE. 

WHEN  first  we  spread  our  tiny  uaile, 

On  life's  eventful  sea — 
And  gently  wafted  by  the  gales, 

How  full  of  life  we  be  1 


VOYAGE    OF    L»FE.  100 

*  Pierce,  angry  billows  never  rise, 

Arx]  all  is  smooth  before, 
And  bright  above,  as  if  the  skies 
Ne'er  threatened  aspect  wore. 

*  Calm  and  serene,  we  banish  fear, 

Nor  dreary  of  future  ill ; 
No  voice  of  danger  cometh  near, 
And  all  is  joyful  still. 

*  Thus  onward  by  the  gentle  breeze, 

Our  fragile  bark  is  driven — 

Till  in  the  wild  and  boisterous  seas, 
We're  tempest-tost  and  riven. 

"  When  all  is  lost  we  look  behind — 

For  help  we  loudly  cry  ; 
We're  answered  only  by  the  wind 
As  it  comes  sweeping  by. 

84  How  blest  is  he  in  early  youth, 

Who  taketh  for  his  chart, 
That  word  which  is  eternal  truth, 
And  seals  it  in  his  heart. 

*  Though  tempnsta  beat  upon  his  bark, 

And  angry  billows  frown — 
And  all  around  is  drear  and  dark — 
Success  his  efforts  crown. 

B  Beyond  the  storm  a  light  appears. 

The  beacon  light  of  faith  ; 
It  cheers  his  heart,  and  calms  his  fears, 
And  takes  the  sting  from  death. 

*  Thus  through  his  voyag*  propitious  gale*, 

With  gentle  seas  are  ^iven — 
Until  at  last  he  furls  hw  sails, 
Safe  in  the  port  of  Heaven. 

D.C.6 
10 


110          CONVERSION    OF    REV.    J.    tASTBUKN. 


CONVERSION  OF  REV.  JOSEPH  EASTBURN. 

BLR.  EASTRURNwas  the  first  stated  preacher  to 
seam  in  in  Philadelphia,  and,  in  fact,  the  first  in 
the  L  aited  States.  He  was  born  in  Philadelphia, 
August  11,  1748.  His  parents  were  originally 
Friends,  hut  being  converted  to  experimental  re- 
ligion under  the  preaching  of  Mr.  Whitfield.  they 
left  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  united  with  other 
of  W bitfield's  converts,  under  the  ministry  of  the 
Rev.  Gilbert  Tennent.  Young  Joseph  was  relig- 
iously educated,  and  his  parents  hoped  he  would 
eventually  be  a  preacher  ;  but  his  father,  being 
taken  prisoner  by  the  Indians,  rendered  his  parents 
too  poor  to  give  him  any  thing  more  than  a  com- 
mon English  education.  At  the  age  of  fourteen, 
he  was  put  apprentice  to  the  cabinet-making  bu- 
siness, in  a  large  shop  of  seventeen  thoughtless 
apprentices  and  young  men.  Here  he  was  drawn 
Rway  to  break  the  Sabbath,  by  skating  and  other 
amusements,  but  soon  his  conscience  was  awakened, 
and  he  left  his  giddy  companions,  from  whom  he 
afterwards  suffered  much  cruel  mockery  and  perse- 
cution. What  a  strange  exhibition  of  the  human 
heart  it  is,  that  young  men  should  so  often  take 
Cruel  delight  in  grieving  one  of  their  number,  who 
is  sincerely  desirous  of  attending  to  religion,  and 
Having  his  soul.  But  Joseph  was  Amoved  by  them, 
for  he  found  these  words  continually  coming  to  his 
mind,  which  he  heard  in  a  sermon  by  President 
Davies, — "  Oh  eternity  !  eternity  !  how  will  this 
awful  sound  echo  through  the  vaults  of  hell !"  For 
a  long  time  he  was  in  distress  about  his  soul,  and 
struggled  to  get  sin  out  of  his  heart,  while  hia 
wicked  unbelief  prevented  him  from  coming  to  the 


CONVERSION    OF    KKV.    J.    EASTBURN  111 

only  Saviour,  who  can  take  away  sin      In  an  ao- 
count  of  his  early  life,  he  says  : — 

"  My  niind  was  overpowered  with  unbelief,  until 
one  Sabbath  morning,  about  the  break  of  day.  I 
was  then  thinking  about  my  miserable  state  of 
soul, — guilty,  filthy,  wretched,  and  helpless  ;  and 
that  a  Saviour  was  appointed,  and  Jesus  was  invit- 
ing ine  to  come  to  him,  and  if  I  did,  I  should  ob- 
tain relief.  I  found  the  hinderance  was  in  myself, 
and  that  none  but  the  Lord  could  remove  it.  I 
then  fell  on  my  knees,  crying  to  him  to  undertake 
for  me.  I  tried  to  present  all  my  wants  to  him, 
and  besought  him,  that  whatever  it  was  that  hin- 
dered my  closing  with  Jesus,  he  would  remove  it 
out  of  the  way ;  and  that  he  would  be  pleased  to 
work  true  faith  in  me.  that  I  might  believe.  And 
while  I  was  thus  pouring  out  my  heart  to  the  Lord 
for  his  grace,  that  blessed  counsel  of  the  precious 
Saviour  was  powerfully  impressed  on  my  mind, 
contained  in  the  third  chapter  of  the  Revelations, 
18th  verse, — '  I  counsel  thee  to  buy  of  me  gold 
tried  in  the  fire,  that  thou  mayest  be  rich ;  and 
white  raiment,  that  thou  mayest  be  clothed,  and 
that  the  shame  of  thy  nakedness  do  u<gt  appear ; 
and  anoint  thine  eyes  with  eye-salve  that  thou 
mayest  see."  Now  a  perfect  suitableness  appeared 
in  this  blessed  provision  to  answer  all  my  wants ; 
for  I  knew  I  was  truly  poor,  and  deep  in  debt  to 
divine  justice,  and  had  nothing  of  my  own  to  pay. 
But  the  white  raiinent  was  what  I  stood  in  partic- 
ular need  of,  for  I  had  often  been  filled  with  hor- 
ror at  the  thought  of  appearing  a  guilty,  vile,  filthy 
spirit,  before  the  bar  of  a  just  and  holy  God  ;  but 
if  unayed  in  this  glorious  white  raiinent,  I  might 
appear  there  to  divine  acceptance,  and  all  my  filthy 
garments  be  cast  away.  The  enlightening  of  the 


112  PREACHING    TO    SAILORS. 

mind  with  this  eye-salve  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  waj 
what  I  was  likewise  deeply  sensible  1  greatly 
needed  ;  so  that  before  I  was  av  are  of  a  change  in 
my  mind,  iny  soul  cried  out, — C  Lord  !  I  accept 
this  gracious  counsel,  and  do  bless  thee  for  it.  My 
heart  was  filled  with  comfort,  and  I  could  now  call 
the  Lord  my  dear  Father,  and  felt  my  very  soul 
going  out  to  him  in  love,  whom  before  I  had  so 
much  dreaded  as  my  awful  Judge.  I  know  not 
that  any  creature  heard  me,  in  all  or  any  of  my 
private  exercises,  or  how  long  I  continued  in  this  , 
but  when  I  came  down  to  my  father's  family,  with 
whom  I  then  boarded,  my  father  saw  such  a  change 
in  my  countenance,  that  he  directly  desired  me  to 
lead  in  family  worship,  which  I  felt  a  willingness 
to  do." 

HIS  PREACHING   TO   THE   SAILORS. 

IT  appears  by  Mr.  Eastburn's  Journal,  that 
he  began  to  preach  statedly  to  seamen  on  the  fourth 
Sabbath  in  October,  1819.  He  says  in  his  Jour- 
nal for  that  day, — "  Many  attended,  morning  and 
afternoon,*and  conducted  very  well.  Some  were 
affected.  On  the  third  Sabbath  of  October  of  this 
year,  the  present  commodious  Marine  Church,  in 
Philadelphia,  was  opened  for  worship.  A  particu- 
lar narrative  of  the  efforts  that  had  been  made  for 
the  accommodation  of  mariners  with  a  place  of 
worship  in  that  city,  was  at  the  time  presented. 
Some  of  the  pious  reflections  contained  in  that  nar- 
rative are  worthy  of  being  preserved. 

"  The  reflections  arising  from  a  review  of  the 
peculiar  smiles  of  Providence  attending  the  efforts 
using  in  favor  of  mariners,  are  calculated  to  fill  the 
mind  with  wonder  and  astonishment  at  the  good 


HIS    DEATH.  113 

ness  and  mercy  cf  the  Lord.  Surely  it  conveya 
the  encouraging  hope,  that  the  set  time  to  favor 
seamen  is  come.  The  interest  excited  in  their  bo- 
half,  was  simultaneous  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlan- 
tic. Only  seven  or  eight  years  have  elapsed  since 
the  public  feeling  has  in  any  measure  been  alive  to 
this  object ;  and  what  has  been  the  result,  both  in 
Europe  and  America,  since  that  period  ?  Bethel 
Unions,  Floating  Chapds,  Mariner's  Churches,  and 
Prayer  Meeting  Establishments,  we  hear  of,  from 
almost  every  large  seaport.  Can  this  be  any  other 
than  a  supernatural  influence  operating  at  o'ne  and 
the  same  time,  without  concert,  without  the  knowl- 
edge of  each  other's  exertions  ;  and  yet,  all  tend- 
ing to  the  same  GODLIKE  work  of  benevolence,  the 
salvation  of  the  souls  of  poor  neglected  mariners  ? 

HIS   DEATH. 

"  From  the  time  this  holy  man  began  to  preach 
to  watermen,  he  devoted  himself  very  much  to  ttieir 
interests,  and  had  the  happiness  to  succeed  in  a 
remarkable  degree  in  gaining  their  respect  and 
confidence.  What  sailor  that  ever  met  Father 
Eastburn,  did  not  love  the  old  man  1  He  preached 
to  them,  he  visited  them,  he  went  on  board  their 
ships,  and  to  their  lodgings ;  he  prayed  with  the 
sick ;  he  attended  the  funerals  of  the  deceased  ;  he 
bore  them  on  his  heart  to  God  in  his  private  pray- 
ers ;  and  in  every  way  he  sought  to  win  their  souls 
for  Christ.  And  there  is  reason  to  believe  he  waa 
successful  in  very  many  instances. 

"  From  June,  1827,  to  the  time  of  his  death,  he 
labored    under  an    internal   disease,   beyond   the 
reach  of  medicine.     He  never  after  attended  th« 
Mariner's  Church  but  once. 
10* 


114 


HIS    DEATH. 


"  In  the  month  of  September,  he  was  once  car- 
ried to  his  beloved  Mariner's  Church,  where  ha 
made  a  short  address  to  the  Sabbath-school  chil- 
dren, and  one  still  shorter  to  the  mariners  them- 
selves. This  was  his  farewell  interview  with  them, 
and  was  so  regarded  by  all  the  parties  concerned. 
It  is  almost  needless  to  say,  that  tears  in  abun- 
dance were  shed  on  the  occasion. 

"  After  this  he  languished  till  the  morning  of 
January  30,  1828,  when  he  fell  asleep  in  Jesus. 
'  Mark  the  perfect  man,  and  behold  the  upright, 
for  the  end  of  that  man  is  peace.' 

The  name  and  virtues  of  Joseph  Eastburn,  (says 
his  biographer.)  have  probably  been  already  cele- 
brated in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe.  The  last 
ten  years  of  his  life  were  so  disinterestedly,  assid- 
uously, and  affectionately  devoted  to  all  the  best 
interests  of  seamen,  that  a  large  number  of  them 
regarded  him  with  the  veneration  and  attachment 
which  dutiful  children  bear  to  a  worthy  parent ; 
and  with  their  characteristic  warmth  of  feeling, 
there  is  little  reason  to  doubt  that  they  have  pro- 
claimed his  praise  in  every  region  to  which  their 
vocation  has  called  them.  Not  only  in  many  of 
the  seaports  of  our  own  continent,  but  on  the  coasts 
of  Asia  and  Africa,  and  in  various  ports  of  Europe, 
we  may  believe  that  they  have  extolled  his  piety, 
commended  his  benevolence,  and  exhibited  him  as 
an  example. 

"And  how,  it  may  be  asked,  .was  this  celebrity 
and  affectionate  attachment  obtained  ?  Was  it  ac- 
quired by  an  illustrious  parentage,  by  -splendid 
genius,  by  great  talents,  by  distinguished  erudition, 
or  by  munificent  donatives?  Nothing,  not  an  iota 
of  all  this  The  individual  concerned  was  of  hum- 
ble birth,  he  had  no  pretensions  to  genius,  no  cmi- 


FtTNERAL    OF    4    MINISTER.  115 

nencc  of  intellectual  powers  or  attainments,  little 
learning,  and  but  a  scanty  property.  The  whole 
must  be  attributed  to  simple,  genuine,  consistent. 
fervent,  active,  eminent  piety.  Of  the  inflrfenco 
and  esteem  whi^h  such  a  piety  may  secure  to  its 
possessor,  by  manifesting  itself  in  all  the  forms  iu 
which  it  will,  without  seeking  or  expecting  such  an 
effect,  become  conspicuous,  Mr.  Eastburn  was  ono 
of  the  most  striking  instances  the  world  has  ever 


•ecu. 


FUNERAL  OF  A  FAITHFUL  MINISTER. 

"  FAR  from  affliction  toil  and  care 

The  happy  soul  is  fled ; 
The  breathless  clay  shall  slumber  here, 
Among  the  silent  dead. 

"  The  Gospel  was  his  joy  and  song, 

E'en  to  his  latest  Breath; 
The  truth  he  had  proclaim'd  so  long 
Was  his  support  in  death. 

11  Now  he  resides  where  Jesus  is, 

Above  this  dusky  sphere ; 
His  soul  was  ripen'd  for  that  bliss, 
While  yet  he  sojourn'd  here. 

"  The  sailor's  loss  we  all  deplore, 

And  shed  the  falling  tear ; 
Since  we  shall  see  his  face  no  more, 
Till  Jesus  shall  appear. 

*  But  we  are  hast'ning  to  the  tomb ; 

Oh,  may  we  readv  stand  ; 
Then,  dearest  Lord,  receive  us  home, 
To  dwell  at  thy  right  hand." 


116  THE    HOPE    OF    HEAVEN. 

Extract  from  a  sermon  preached  by  the  Rev.  Joseph  Heiiioa,  am  I 
funeral  occasion : 

"  Instead,  therefore,  of  grieving  immoderately 
that  our  friends  have  entered  into  rest  before  us, 
and  gained  the  blessed  port  which  we  toil  hard  to 
find  ;  let  us  rather,  out  of  love  to*them,  rejoice  at 
least  that  they  are  safe  landed.  And  though  we, 
their  companions,  are  left  behind,  let  us  take  com- 
fort in  considering  it  is  but  a  little  while.  The  time 
is  fast  approaching  when  we  too  shall  make  the 
land.  While  the  prosperous  gales  of  divine  grace 
arising  swell  our  sails,  and  waft  our  vessel  towards 
the  shore,  the  tide  of  some  returning  affliction  will 
flow,  and  convey  it  into  the  heavenly  harbor.  Then 
our  friends  that  went  before,  shall  rejoice  to  see  us 
arrive  safe,  and  crowd  to  bid  us  welcome.  And  we, 
I  doubt  not,  shall  have  the  comfort  of  finding 
many  escaped  thither,  under  the  direction  of  their 
invisible  Captain  and  Pilot,  concerning  whom  wo 
had  entertained  a  thousand  distressiug  fears ;  lest, 
during  the  storm  and  tempest,  they  had  suffered 
shipwreck,  and  been  lost  amidst  the  raging  billows. 
And  oh!  what  a  meeting  that  shall  be:  what  mu 
tual  joy  and  congratulations,  increased  and  height- 
ened by  the  great  and  threatening  dangers  the  par- 
ties had  passed  through,  and  the  narrow  escapes 
they  had  had.  Let  us  look  forward  to  the  happy 
time.  Let  us  comfort  our  hearts  with  the  prospect 
of  it,  amidst  the  winds  and  waves  of  this  trouble- 
gome  world. — Sailor's  Mag. 


THE  HOPE  OF  HEAVEN  OUR  SUPPORT. 

"WHEN  I  can  read  my  title  clear 

To  mansions  in  the  skies, 
I'll  bid  farewell  to  evpry  fear, 
And  wipe  my  weeping  eyea. 


THE    LIFE-BUOY    OF    THE    SOUI .  117 

Should  earth  against  my  soul  engage, 

And  hellish  darts  be  hurl'd, 
Then  I  can  smile  at  Satan's  rage 

And  face  a  frowning  world. 

"  Let  cares,  like  a  wild  deluge  come, 

And  storms  of  sorrow  fall ; 
May  I  but  safely  reach  my  home, 
My  God,  my  heav'n,  my  all ; 

"  There  shall  I  bathe  my  weary  soul 

In  seas  of  heavenly  rest ; 

And  not  a  wave  of  trouble  roll, 

Across  my  peaceful  breast. 

WATTS. 


THE  LIFE-BUOY  OF  THE  SOUL. 

n    THE    REV.    C.    S.    STEWART,   A.y  ,   CHAPLAIN    IS   THH 
U.  S.  NAVY. 

"  THE  calling  of  the  midniglit  watch  first  re- 
minded two  youthful  voyagers  on  the  distant 
Pacific,  that  the  conversation  in  which  they  were 
engaged  had  been  prolonged  to  an  unreasonable 
hour.  It  was  the  signal  for  one,  as  an  officer  of 
the  ship,  to  take  the  post  of  duty  in  command  on 
deck  ;  and  the  customary  salutations  of  a  separa- 
tion for  the  night  were  abruptly  and  hastily  inter- 
changed. A  careless  spectator  might  not  havo 
observed  any  thing  peculiar  in  the  manner  in 
which  these  were  made,  but  one  accustomed  to  the 
study  of  his  fellows,  would  have  read  in  the  expres- 
give  grasp  of  a  sailor's  hand,  and  in  the  subdued 
tone  of  a  manly  voice,  some  unaccustomed  state  of 
mind,  some  deep  feeling  of  the  heart.  Nor  would 


J18  THE    LIFE-BUOY    OF    THE    SOUL. 

he  havo  been  deceived  in  the  f;ict,  though  he  might 
have  mistaken  the  cause. 

"  A  cloudless,  suitry,  and  listless  day  at  the  equa- 
tor, had  been  suddenly  succeeded  by  a  gloomy 
and  foreboding  night,  with  every  indication  in  a 
wild  and  ragged  sky  above,  and  a  deeply-heaving 
and  moaning  sea  below,  of  some  further,  and  not 
distant  change:  a  change  which  might  come  upon 
the  lonely  bark,  with  a  power  alike  destructive, 
whether  exhibited  in  the  rending  fury  of  the  light- 
ning, or  in  the  desolation  of  a  tornado.  But  it  was 
not,  that,  under  circumstances  such  as  these,  he  was 
called  upon  to  assume  the  responsibility  of  the  deck, 
that  the  tones  of  sadness  were  distinguished  in  the 
sailor's  voice,  or  that  the  trepidation  of  an  agitated 
mind  is  imparted  to  his  hand.  No !  To  him  the 
sea  had  lost  its  terrors.  From  early  boyhood  till 
now,  in  the  fullness  of  his  youth,  he  had  been  famil- 
iar with  its  fitful  changes — had  been  lulled  to  his 
soundest  slumbers  by  its  storms,  and  gazed  upon 
the  most  fearful  of  its  tempests  only  as, 

'  A  babe  lists  to  music, 
Wondering,  but  not  affrighted,' 

"  It  was  a  moral  cause  operating  within,  and  not 
the  intimidating  aspect  without,  that  had  given 
rise  to  the  feeling  existing  in  his  bosom. 

"  In  the  providence  of  God,  the  instructions  of 
the  day  had  been  of  the  most  solemn  and  impres- 
sive kind.  An  instance  of  mortality  had  occurred 
in  the  ship's  company,  similar  in  its  characteristics 
and  appalling  result,*to  the  tens  of  thousands  which 
in  various  sections  of  the  world,  testify  to  the  exist- 
ence or  a  pestilence,  that,  with  uncontrolled  devas- 
tation, '  walketh  in  darkness,  and  wasteth  at  noon- 
day.1 One  of  the  most  athletic  and  youthful  of  tho 


THE    LIFE-BUOY    OF    THE    SOUL.  119 

crew ;  one,  who  but  the  day  previous,  had  trod  th« 
decks  as  vigorous  and  clastic,  and  with  a  heart  as 
thoughtless  and  as  gay.  as  any  of  his  companions ; 
had.  after  th  •  agony  of  a  few  hours,  fallen  into  the 
arms  of  death  ;  and  with  the  dawn  of  the  coining 
morning,  was  to  be  seen  stretched  on  the  forecastle, 
in  the  habiliments  of  the  grave,  awaiting,  beneath 
the  banner  of  his  country,  the  hour  when  his  body 
should  be  committed  to  the  deep,  there  to  rest 
'  till  the  sea  shall  give  up  the  dead." 

"  So  silently  and  so  swiftly  had  the  destroyer 
passed  by.  that  many  on  board  were  ignorant  of  the 
visitation,  till  coming  on  deck,  their  eyes  met  the 
resistless  evidence  of  it  in  the  lifeless  corpse  of  their 
fellow.  The  only  expression  that  for  a  time  waa 
heard  to  re-echo  from  one  and  another,  as  the  start- 
ling fact  fastened  itself  upon  them,  was. — '  Can  it 

be  possible  that  J •  is  dead  !'  And  for  hours 

after,  as  if  still  incredulous  of  the  reality,  one  and 
another  might  be  seen  slowly  to  approach  his  bier, 
and  turning  aside  its  star-spangled  covering,  by 
long  and  silent  gaze  on  the  fixed  and  death-like 
stricken  features  of  the  youthful  victim,  to  assure 
themselves  that  the  spirit  had  indeed  forsaken  its 
abode  ;  while  the  half-suppressed  sigh,  and  in  some 
instances,  the  gathering  tear,  hastily  brushed  from 
a  hardy  cheek,  told  how  reluctantly  they  yielded 
themselves  to  the  unwelcome  truth. 

"  It  was  after  a  day  marked  by  scenes  and 
impressions  such  as  these,  that  the  two  individuals 
now  introduced,  had  met  each  other  on  deck  at  the 
setting  of  the  first  night  watch.  Only  one  hour 
before  their  meeting,  the  body  of  their  departed 
shipmate,  with  the  solemn  rites  of  a  burial  at  sea*, 
^ad  been  committed  to  a  fathomless  grave;  and 
with  every  thought  absorbed  in  the  affecting  event 


THE    LIFE-BUOY    OF    THE    SOUL. 

which  had  befallen  them,  they  involuntarily  spok« 
to  each  other  of  the  frailty  and  uncertainty  of  life 
of  the  solemnity  of  death,  and  the  eternity  of  bless- 
edness and  woe  revealed  to  man  in  the  word  of 
God. 

'  To  the  mariner  these  were  unaccustomed 
themes.  But  under  the  circumstances  in  which 
they  were  presented,  they  commended  themselves 
to  the  strong  emotions  of  his  heart,  with  an  awaken- 
ing and  subduing  power  And  so  his  companion 
unfolded  to  him  his  own  views  of  their  importance 
to  the  welfare  of  the  immortal  spirit,  and  at  length, 
urged  upon  him  the  necessity  of  an  undelayed  re- 
pentance towards  God,  and  of  faith  in  Jesus  Christ. 
His  soul,  under  the  conviction  '  of  sin.  of  righteous- 
ness, and  of  judgment  to  come,'  melted  into  peni- 
tence, and  threw  into  his  aspect  and  manner  the 
deep  feeling  of  the  moment  at  which  the  midnight 
bell  had  summoned  him  to  the  duties  of  his  office 
in  command  of  the  succeeding  watch.  Happily, 
the  impressions  thus  received  did  not,  as  is  often 
the  melancholy  fact,  prove  transitory  or  inopera 
tiye,  but  resulted  in  a  fixed  state  of  mind,  which 
will  be  best  understood  from  the  language  of  the 
individual  himself  in  a  conversation  with  his  friend, 
some  few  weeks  after  their  occurrence. 

"  The  ship  having,  in  the  intervening  time,  safely 
doubled  the  '  Cape  of  Storms,'  was  now  gallantly 
ploughing  her  trackless  way  through  the  tropical 
latitudes  of  the  South  Atlantic,  with  all  her  canvas 
spread  to  the  freshness  of  her  favoring  trade-winds. 
Above  the  constellation  of  the  Cross, 

'  Mid  stars  unnumbered, 
And  exceeding  beautiful,' 

•hone  brightly  and  conspicuously,  the  object   of 


THE    UFfc-BCOi    OF    THE    SOTTL.  1UJ 

untiring  admiration  and  of  heavenly  thought,  while 
a  full-orbed  moou  cast  her  mild  and  silvery  beams 
mildly  over  the  surrounding  waters  below.  The 
loveliness  of  the  scene  thus  exhibited,  had  detained 
the  frieads  till  a  late  hour  on  deck,  and  the  rapid 
approaches  they  wire  making  to  a  port,  at  which 
a  separation  was  expected  to  take  place,  led  them 
to  a  review,  in  their  conversation,  of  the  period 
passed  since  the  death  of  their  shipmate. 

'^Conscious  that  a  change,  affecting  his  entire 

feelings  and  character,  in  relation  to  the  welfare 

and  destiny  of  the  soul,  had  occurred  within  it,  the 

young  sailor  had  ventured  to  believe,  that, '  through 

the  washing  of  regeneration,  and  renewing  of  the 

Holy  Ghost,'  he  was  a  new  creature  in  Christ  Jesus ; 

and  yielding  himself  to  that  peace  of  conscience 

and  joy  of  heart,  which  such  a  persuasion,  alone  can 

impart  to  a  contrite  spirit;  he  thus  give  utterance 

and  illustration  to  the    affections   of  his   bosom, 

while  every  feature  of  his  countenance,  moulded 

iu  manliness  of  beauty  seldom  surpassed,  was  filled 

with  beamings  the  most  ingenuous  and  attractive  : 

'• '  Oh  !  how  different  does  life  now  appear  to  me, 

and  how  different  death  ! — I  recollect  once  to  have 

been  in  circumstances  in  which  I  thought  death 

inevitable.     It  was  on  board  a  small  vessel,  on  the 

American  coast,  overtaken  by  a  terrific  gale,  just 

at  right-fall,  in  the  vicinity  of  a  dangerous  and 

iron-bcund  island.     Such  was  the  violence  of  the 

tempost.  that  it  soon  became  impracticable  to  carry 

the  least  canvas  to  keep  the  vessel  off  the  shore, 

which,  though  not  in  sight,  was  known  to  be  near  ; 

and  it  was  less  a  surprising  than  a  horror-thrilling 

sound,  to  hear  the  cry  of  '  breakers  on  the  lee-bow  !' 

made  from  the  fore-deck  before  midnight;  while 

the  thunderings  of  a  heavy  surf  came  booming  on 

11 


122  THE    LIFE-BUOY    OF   THE    SOUL. 

the  ear.  above  the  roar  of  the  winds  and  the  raging 
of  the  sea.  Every  one  believed  an  escape  iuipoa 
eible ;  and  as  an  only  refuge,  I  seized  a  spar  ueaf 
me,  with  the  intention  of  lashing  myself  to  it,  when 
the  fearful  concussion  between  the  ship  and  the 
rocks  should  be  felt.  Soon  a  long  line  of  white 
foam,  was  distinctly  seen  through  the  darkness  of 
the  night,  swelling  mast  high,  and  then  bursting 
with  tremendous  force  over  the  pointed  summits  of 
a  range  of  cliffs. — all  was  given  up  as  lost !  At 
this  instant,  as  if  by  miracle,  our  little  bark  was 
swept  past  the  danger,  on  the  hearings  of  the  very 
billow  which  seemingly  a  moment  later  would  hare 
hurled  her  to  utter  ruin  ;  and  we  found  ourselves 
in  comparative  safety  under  the  lee  of  the  head- 
land, which  had  so  nearly  proved  futul. 

" '  I  have  thought  of  the  scene  a  hundred  times 
within  the  last  few  weeks,  and  of  the  vain  refuge 
to  which  I  then  looked  for  security  and  comfort. 
Oh  how  different  would  my  thoughts  nnd  feelings 
now  be,  if  placed  in  similar  Circumstances  !  Should 
shipwreck  and  deatli  now  befall  me.  thanks  be  to 
the  grace  of  God,  my  dependence  and  consolation 
would  not  be  on  a  piece  of  timber,  as  perishable  in 
the  war  of  elements,  as  my  own  strength  would  be 
unavailing  against  their  power ;  but.'  elevating  his 
eyes  to  the  heavens,  and  fixing  them,  filled  with 
confidence  and  joy  on  the  emblem  of  the  cross— 
'  IN  THE  Hoi'ic  OF  SALV/TION,' — '  THE 
OF  THE  SOUL  !'  " — Christian  Keepsake. 


PITY  THE  POOR  SEAMAN. 

O  THINK  on  the  mariner  toss'd  on  the  billow  ! 

Afar  from  the  home  of  his  childhood  and  youth  j 
No  mother  to  wutch  o'er  his  sleep-broken  pillow, 

No  father  to  counsel,  no  sister  to  soothe. 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIfJB  123 

*  A4one,  'inid  the  wastes  of  the  desolate  ocean, 

His  prison-house  floats  at  the  sport  of  the  wind; 
Leaving  all  that  his  bosom  regards  with  devotion, 
Society,  kindred,  and  country  behind. 

*  Ah !  little  know  ye,  who  are  peacefully  sleeping 

On  home's  downy  pillow,  unwaken'd  and  warm, 
The  woes  of  the  seaman,  his  dreary  watch  keeping, 
Amid  all  the  horrors  of  midnight  and  storm. 

••  Oh  say !  shall  the  man  thus  to  banishment  driven, 
From  all  that  entwines  round  the  bosom  below, 
Be  sternly  shut  out  from  communion  with  heaven, 
And  end  his  sad  life  in  a  mansion  of  woe  1 

"  Pour,  pour  on  his  pathway  of  tempest  and  gloom, 

The  radiant  light  of  the  Gospel  of  peace ; 
And  Bethlehem's  star  shall  his  passage  illume 

To  the  ha"en  where  darkness  and  tempest  shall  ceaae." 

Sailor's  Magazine. 


INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

ADDRESSED   TO  SEAMEN. 

Lafayette  College,  Easlon,  Dec.  6,  1842. 
DEAR.  SIR, — Your  Magazine  for  this  month  cauae 
f-  hand  last  evening,  and  it  immediately  reminded 
me  of  my  promise  to  you  while  in  New  York.  Thig 
evening,  while  reading  its  pages.  I  saw  a  communi- 
cation in  relation  to  myself,  which  I  knew  at  once, 

to  be  the  production  of  Captain  P .   O,  that  I 

had  headed  his  instructions,  then  gvven  to  me  in 
the  spirit  of  prayer,  as  I  believe  they  all  were. 
But  those  days  are  past,  and  cannot  be  recalled  ; 
»nd  although  spent  in  rebellion,  yet  I  trust,  the 
Lord  will  overrule  all  for  good.  I  will  now  fulfil 
qay  promise  : — 


124  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SATIOR's    LI1 E. 

Some  months  ago,  while  on  my  passage  from  tho 
Island  of  Santa  Cruz,  in  the  West  Indies,  to  Phil 
adelphia,  I  conceived  the  plan  of  making  known  to 
the  world,  and  more  particularly  to  my  brethren 
of  the  sea.  some  of  the  workings  of  Divine  Provi- 
dence on  my  sinful  heart ;  and  having  heard  that 
you  were  the  seaman's  friend,  I  resolved  to  write  a 
short  account  of  them  to  you,  in  the  hope  that  they 
would  meet  your  approbation,  and  that  you  would 
give  them  an  insertion  in  the  Sailor's  Magazine. 
But  on  my  arrival  at  Philadelphia,  I  showed  them 
to  a  friend,  who  advised  me  to  keep  them  until  I 
would  be  able  to  correct  them.  This  I  intended 
to  have  done ;  but  my  time  has  been  so  closely 
occupied  as  to  prevent  me  ;  and  as  you  have  re- 
quested a  copy,  I  will  leave  this  with  you,  if  you 
will  do  me  the  favor  to  correct  any  grammatical 
errors  which  you  may  detect,  as  well  as  those  in  the 
notation.  I  send  this  forth  to  the  scrutinizing  eye 
of  the  world,  with  many  prayers  to  the  God  of  the 
sea.  that  this  bread,  cast  as  it  is  upon  the  bosom  of 
the  waters,  may  return  after  many  days.  The  fol 
lowing  statement  is  intended  by  the  writer,  to  earn- 
to  the  mind  of  the  reckless  wanderer  of  tjie  deep 

"  That  there  is  One  above  All  others, 

Who  well  deserves  the  name  of  friend, 
Whose  love  is  far  beyond  a  brother's, 
Full  and  free,  and  knows  no  end." 

One, 

"Who  plants  his  footsteps  on  the  aea, 
And  rides  upon  the  storm ;" 

who  is  continually  watching  over  the  interests  of 
the  sailor  ;  whose  sceptre  is  extended  to  all  who 
will  receive  pardon  at  his  hands.  Ytt  I  hope, 
should  some  landsman  oTerhaul  it,  that  he  will 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S   LIFE.  125 

perceive  in  it  the  wondrous  workings  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,  and  apply  fehem  also  to  himself;  as  my  ob- 
ject is  not  to  be  known  in  the  world,  but  to  do 
good  in  the  cause  of  my  Redeemer. 

My  dear  shipmates,  if  the  experience  of  one  who 
has  been  a  wanderer  on  the  great  deep  for  ten 
years,  both  in  men -of  war  and  merchantmen;  who 
Las  witnessed  the  effects  of  the  wild  tornado,  the 
typhoon  and  hurricane ;  the  ravages  of  death  in  all 
the  various  forms  which  he  assumes  on  the  deep ; 
who  at  one  time  has  seen  his  shipmates  crushed  by 
falling  from  aloft;  and  at  another  time,  watched 
the  horrid  and  rapid  progress  of  the  cholera  take 
away  thirty  of  them  in  one  week  ; — on  another 
voyage,  who  witnessed  the  departure  of  eighteen 
by  sickness  and  intoxication;  and  again  beheld  the 
mournful  spectacle  of  five,  swimming  about  the 
vessel,  while  the  hurricane  was  pouring  forth  its 
maddening  fury,  and  lashing  the  waves  to  anger,  so 
that  it  was  utterly  impossible  to  save  them  ;  toge- 
ther with  many  other  such  scenes,  which  time  and 
opportunity  would  fail  me  to  relate  : — if.  having 
shared  the  same  perils  and  dangers  in  storm  and 
tempest, — at  sea  and  on  shore, — at  midnight  and 
noonday, — aloft  and  below  :  and  added  to  these, 
was  himself  sunk  in  the  depths  of  debauchery  and 
licentiousness,  from  which  he  has  been  snatched  by 
the  hand  of  the  Lord. — -  as  a  brand  from  the  burn- 
ing :" — if,  I  repeat  it,  such  a  one  can  sympathize 
with  you  in  your  neglected  state,  and  claim  your 
attention,  then  may  I  proceed  to  give  you  a  brief 
narrative  of  ten  years'  cruisings.  I  have  been  led 
to  take  this  step  from  pure  love  to  your  souls  ; 
hoping  that  a  word  from  one  of  your  own  cla«s  and 
profession,  may  have  mure  influence  over  you  than 
the  advice  of  a  landsman,  who  oaur.ot  know  what 
11* 


126  INCIDENTS    IN    A    BAILOR'S    LIFE. 

we  know,  unless  they  follow  us  oil  our  voyages,  ana 
endure  with  us  the  trials  enumerated  here. 

You  may  think,  perhaps,  I  am  a  long  time  get- 
ting under  weigh ;  but  hold  on  a  little  longer,  and 
I  think  I  will  satisfy  you.  It  has  been  said  by 
many  seamen,  myself  among  the  number,  that  it 
was  a  matter  of  impossibility  to  serve  God  on  board 
a  vessel  at  sea,  especially  when  a  greater  part  of 
the  crew  are  irreligious  But  I  can  safely  aver, 
that  this  is  an  erroneous  impression-,  under  which 
the  unconverted  sailor  often  labors.  That  it  is  a 
trial,  I  will  allow,  and  a  very  great  one  ;  but  where 
is  the  trial  too  great  for  the  Lord  to  overcome,  or 
the  work  too  hard  for  him  to  perform  ?  None  !  I 
say,  and  so  will  every  one  else  say.  who  acknowl- 
edges his  power.  Did  he  not  save  Noah,  when  the 
whole  earth  was  deluged  with  the  flood  ?  Did  he 
not  bring  Joseph  out  of  the  hands  of  Potiphar,  and 
set  him  over  all  the  land  of  Egypt  ?  Did  he  not 
save  Moses  in  the  ark,  though  the  edict  had  gone 
forth  from  Pharaoh  to  destroy  all  the  mab-s  of  the 
Hebrews  ?  Did  he  not  save  righteous  Lot  ?  De 
liver  Job  ?  Save  Jonah  from  the  jaws  of  thu  sea- 
nionster  ?  Bring  the  children  of  Israel  out  of 
Egypt  ?  divide  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea  for  them, 
and  sink  their  enemies  in  its  waves  ?  Did  he  not 
eave  Peter,  when  he  cried,  "  Lord,  save,  or  I  per- 
ish?" Methinks  you  will  say,  Yes.  Hence  can  he 
not,  will  he  not  save  you  from  the  revilings  of  a  few 
blasphemous  shipmates  ?  He  will !  he  will !  He 
lias  delivered  me,  and  set  me  in  a  way  to  honor 
him ;  and  he  will  you  also,  if  you  cast  your  cara 
upon  him : — 

'  Venture  on  him.;  venture  wholly,' 
Let  no  other  care  intrude." 


INCIDENTS    IV    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  127 

I  have  told  you,  that  he  has  snatched  me  "  as  a 
brand  from  the  burning,"  and  will  now  tell  you  how 
he  has  done  it.  I  left  iny  home  at  the  early  age  of 
13  years,  in  June  1831,  although  rather  against 
my  parents'  will ;  and  all  the  scenes  through  which 
I  have  been  called  to  pass  since  then,  arose,  in  the 
providence  of  God,  from  so  trivial  a  circumstance 
as  that  of  breaking  a  pane  of  glass ;  for,  directly 
after  the  accident,  I  made  the  resolution  to  follow 
the  sea  :  and  what  renders  it  more  singular,  was  the 
fact,  that  up  to  that  hour,  1  had  held  every  thought 
of  the  sea  in  perfect  abhorrence.  My  parents  had 
taught  me  to  obey  them  strictly,  and  had  set  be- 
fore me  examples  of  morality.  I  soon  made  known 
to  them  rny  wishes  and  ideas  in  relation  to  a  sea 
life,  but  they  strenuously  forbade  me  to  think  of  it 
any  more. 

I  did  not  openly  rebel,  or  answer  to  their  in- 
junctjons ;  but  they  soon  discovered  by  my  actions 
that  the  desire  to  go  to  sea,  was  the  leading  object 
of  my  mind,  and  it  appeared  to  them  that,  nothing 
else  could  satisfy  me.  Therefore,  after  many  peti- 
tions on  my  part,  and  repeated  denials  on  theirs, 
they  at  last  conceded  to  my  wishes,  and  I  set  out, 
young  and  inexperienced,  to  seek  my  fortune  on 
the  restless  and  fathomless  waters  of  the  great 
deep.  A  FOREMAST  HAND. 

To  be  continu£<l. 


CHRIST  STILLING  THE  TEMPEST. 

'TWAB  midnight. — nnd  a  lonely  bark 

Was  tossing  on  deep  Galilee, 
Without  one  star,  to  li<,'ht  the  dark 

And  angry  billows  of  the  sea. 


128  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S   LIFE. 

Ai.d  in  that  bark,  a  precious  band 
Of  noble  heart,  and  manly  form, 

Link'd  soul  with  soul,  and  hand  to  hand, 
Braved  manfully  the  raging  storm. 

But  wind  and  wave  warr'd  fierce  and  long, 

Till  hope  seemed  past,  and  ruin  near, 
And  hearts  that  late  were  firm  and  strong, 

Bowed  down  in  agony  and  fear. 
And  broken  cries,  and  fervent  prayer, 

Went  up  amid  the  angry  blast, — 
Woe,  for  the  weary  toilers  there, 

Had  this  lone  refuge  failed  ut  last ! 

u  But  ah  !  what  strange,  majestic  form, 

Is  that  which  cometh  o'er  the  sea, 
With  footsteps  firm,  amid  the  storm, 

Wajking  the  wave  so  fearlessly  1 
Awe-struck — their  spirits  sink  as  dead, — 

But  soon  again — they  leap — rejoice — 
As — '  It  is  I !  be  not  afraid,' 

Bleaks  from  the  blessed  MASTER'S  voice. 

u  Again  He  spake — '  Peace — peace — be  still  I* 

And  trembling  at  His  high  behest, — 
The  angry  surge  obeyed  His  will, 

And  winds  and  waves  were  hush'd  to  nH 
Oh !  in  that  voice — what  love  and  pmeer, 

To  soothe  the  trembling — rule  the  wave, 
Were  manifested  in  that  hour, 

Of  rescue  from  a  watery  grave. 

"  THOU,  that  didst  rule  wild  Galilee 

When  hope's  last  star  had  dimly  set, 
O !  calm  the  billows  of  life's  sea, 

For  it  hath  weary  voyagers  yet. 
Still  every  wave  of  passion's  flow, 

Rebuke  each  rising  tide  of  sin, 
And  let  each  trusting  spirit  know, 

The  bliss  of  perfect  peace  within.' 
Troy,  Feb.  1847.  In*. 


INCIDENTS    UV    A    SAILOR  S    LIFE.  l29 

INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE- 

APDRESSED  TO  SEAMEN.     (Continued.) 

Lafayette  College,  Jan.  1843, 

MY  DEAR  SIR, — In  my  last,  I  told  you  that  1 
left  a  quiet  home  to  seek  my  fortune  on  the  ocean. 
I  need  not  tell  you,  however,  that  it  was  but  a 
ragged  one :  yet  I  could  expect  nothing  better, 
while  leading  a  life  of  open  rebellion  against  my 
God.  I  left  my  dear  mother  on  the  morning  of 
the  6th  of  June, — 'twas  a  Sabbath  morning ;  I  well 
remember  how  she  wept,  and  how  little  I  felt  the 
separation  at  the  time.  I  had  been  looking  ear- 
nestly for  the  period  of  my  departure  to  arrive, 
that  I  might  realize  all  the  .delights  my  delusive 
imagination  had  conjured  up  in  my  mind.  I  felt 
a  small  pang  at  parting  with  my  mother,  and  bro- 
thers, and  sisters,  which  increased  as  the  time  for 
separation  Decreased  ;  but  in  a  few  moments  I 
found  myself  walking  at  a  smart  pace  towards  the 
river  Thames,  my  father  leading  me  by  the  hand. 
About  seven  o'clock,  we  embarked  on  board  the 
steamboat  "  Thames,"  bound  to  Plymouth,  where 
lay  the  man-of-war,  on  whose  books  my  name  was 
enrolled  for  a  three  years'  cruise. 

The  vessel  proceeded  down  the  river  at  a  rapid 
rate  until  she  arrived  off  North-Fleet,  where  she 
lay  to  for  a  few  minutes,  to  set  some  passengers 
ashore,  among  whom  was  my  father.  He  came  to 
me  and  kissed  me:  "Good  bye,  my  son."  said  lie  : 
and  after  pressing  his  quivering  lip  to  my  cheek, 
he  hurried  into  the  boat.  I  had,  on  my  way  down 
the  river,  been  watching  the  sparkling  waters  aa 
they  were  thrown  aside  by  the  vessel's  prow,  and 


J30          INC:DENTS  m  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

fallen  into  somewhat  of  a  revery,  in  which  I  thought 
only  of  the  scenes  of  the  future,  and  from  which  1 
was  only  awakened  by  the  vessel  again  forging 
ahead.  I  then  felt  that  I  was  alone  in  the  world, 
and  had  but  a  faint  recollection  of  the  parting  with 
my  father.  I  felt  as  though  the  events  which  had 
passed,  were  but  a  shadow  or  a  dream.  However, 
the  sparkling  waves  soon  called  off  my  attention 
again,  and  I  was  lost  in  delight  as  before.  Some- 
times I  would  look  among  those  around  for  an  an- 
swer to  some  question  in  relation  to  the  passing 
objects,  and  then  again  turn  to  the  heaving  spray. 
I  anxiously  and  vainly  waited  in  expectation  of 
seeing  the  waves  rise  to  mountainous  heights,  as 
iny  young  mind  had  pictured  them  while  reading 
some  tale  of  the  sea,  long  before  I  had  dared  even 
to  think  of  casting  myself  on  the  mercies  of  the  re- 
lentless waves.  Two  days  and  nights  passed  on 
board  the  steamboat,  and  on  Thursday  morning  I 
lauded  i'u  Plymouth,  and  immediately  took  a  boat 
and  proceeded  on  board  iny  floating  home.  I  was 
a  little  strange  at  first,  but  soon  became  reconciled 
to  iny  new  companions, — who  were,  by  the  bye,  not 
of  the  most  virtuous  stamp  ;  yet,  I  found  it  neces- 
sary that  I  should  become  as  one  of  them.  To  do 
this,  it  was  also  necessary  to  ape  their  manners, 
and  follow  them  in  their  initiatory  scenes  of  wick 
edness. 

Three  months  of  the  time  passed  slowly  away 
on  board  of  the  hulk,  and  on  the  5th  of  September 
I  left  Plymouth  Sound,  on  board  His  Majesty's 
sloop  "  Pylades."  of  18  guns,  on  a  voyage  for  three 
years,  to  the  coast  of  South  America.  I  was  sea- 
sick for  three  days,  but  after  that,  enjoyed  perfect 
health  the  whole  voyage. 

A  few  evenings  after  our  departure  from  the 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR  S    tIFB.  131 

land,  the  hands  were  turned  up  to  da  ice  ani  sky- 
lark,  which  continued  while  the  weather  would 
permit,  the  whole  cruise  ;  an  I  in  which  I  almost 
invariably  engaged.  On  one  of  these  occasions,  my 
mind  recurred  to  the  Sabb.ith  school,  which  I  had 
left  the  Sabbath  previous  to  my  departure ;  and  I 
stole  away  from  my  companions,  and  crept  in  amid- 
ships, on  the  grating  beside  the  cook's  funnel. 
There  I  began  to  weep,  but  not  alone. — there  waa 
another  in  whose  breast  a  kindred  spirit  glowed. 
He  was  a  boy  of  my  own  age ;  he  ha-i  also  been 
warned  by  his  Sabbath  school  teacher,  to  pray  to 
the  God  of  the  great  waters ;  and  he  had  forgotten 
him.  '•  who  counts  the  sea  as  the  drop  of  the  bucket, 
and  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing."  till  now :  he 
crept  away  in  the  darkness,  and  hid  himself  with 
me  to  weep  over  sin.  We  were,  perhaps,  the  only 
two  hearts  on  board  the  vessel,  at  that  hour,  that 
wept  on  account  of  sin.  (for  weep  we  did),  while  all 
around  us  the  shrill  fife  and  bellowing  drum,  sent 
forth  their  cheering  sounds  to  enliven  the  hearts 
of  the  ship's  crew.  Very  near  to  where  we  were 
sitting,  some  told  their  adventures ;  others  under 
the  lee  of  the  long-boat,  were  spinning  yarns,  some 
of  which,  for  veracity,  could  not  be  excelled  by 
a  Gulliver  or  a  Munchaussen  ;  and,  for  length, 
exceeded  even  the  good  ship's  maintop-bow-lines 
themselves.  Still  we  wept,  and  wept  bitterly  too  ; 
wishing  from  our  hearts,  that  some  of  the  men 
could  hear  our  resolves,  and  punish  us  if  we  broke 
ihem.  While  we  were  thus  ruminating,  it  struck 
eight  bells,  and  in  the  next  instant  the  boatswain 
piped  "  down  all  hammocks,"  which  put  an  end  to 
our  colloquy.  This  ended  the  first,  and,  I  think, 
the  last  deep  and  pungent  conviction  for  sin.  that 
we  experienced  on  board  that  vessel. 


1S(2  INCIDENTS    IN    A    BAILOR'S    LIFE. 

Very  shortly  after  that  period  I  became  hard 
ened,  and,  before  I  was  fourteen  years  of  age,  a 
drunkard,  from  which  time,  I  drank  all  that  came 
within  my  reach  ;  and  full  often  have  I  assisted  to 
stow  away  the  liquor  smuggled  on  board,  in  the 
captain's  cloak-bag,  by  the  cockswain  of  the  gig. 
But  to  enter  into  minute  details  of  all  that  hap- 
pened on  board  that  vessel  would  be 'superfluous, 
and  only  presuming  on  your  time  and  patience. 
Suffice  it  then  to  say.  that  if  death  could  have 
made  an  impression  on  my  heart,  I  should  not 
have  been  so  far  on  the  road  to  ruin  ; — for  my 
shipmates  were  more  than  once  dashed  to  pieces  al- 
most by  my  side.  I  saw,  too,  in  that  vessel,  what 
but  few  men  see  at  sea,  dying  on  one  side,  flogging 
on  the  other,  and  cutting  throats  amidships,  and  re- 
ceiving a  blow  myself,  for  attempting  to  prevent 
one  from  completing  the  diabolical  purpose  of  tak- 
ing bis  own  life.  However,  after  having  cruised 
around  the  coast  of  Brazil,  Chili,  and  Peru,  en- 
countering some  heavy  gales  on  both  sides  of  the 
Horn,  I  returned  to  my  home,  no  more  the  inno- 
cent boy  I  was  when  I  left  it,  but  a  hardened 
drunkard  at  the  age  of  sixteen. 

After  a  short  stay  of  three  months  at  home,  1 
again  bade  farewell  to  home  and  friends,  and  ex- 
changed them  all  to  resume  my  wandering  on  the 
blue  waste  of  waters. 

In  a  few  days  after,  having  received  on  board 
300  convicts,  with  whom  we  were  to  sail  to  New 
South  Wales,  the  cholera  morbus  broke  out,  and 
took  away  some  five  and  six  in  a  night.  On  this 
voyage,  however,  I  thought  but  little  of  the  kind 
Guardian  of  all  my  ways.  There  were  some  sea- 
W)ns  in  which  the  Sabbath  school  instruction  would 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOITS    LIF£.  *  3& 

flit  across  my  mind,  bat  they  were  ortly  mouuen 
tary,  and  were  driven  from  me  by  the  foul  fieud 
Satan ;  while  he  filled  my  mind  with  such  objec- 
tions as  these : — "'  You  will  have  abundance  of 
time  for  these  things  when  you  are  an  old  man — 
you  are  young  yet.  How  do  you  suppose  you 
will  get  along  in  this  world,  if  you  give  way  to 
these  nonsensical  ideas  ?  Leave  these  for  older 
heads  than  yours.  What  is  the  use  of  this  life,  if 
you  do  not  enjoy  its  pleasures  while  here  ?  Take 
your  shipmates'  motto  for  your  own,  UA  short  life, 
if  it  may  be  :  but  a  merry  one,  at  all  risks.'  "  Thus 
he  continued  to  deceive  me,  and  I  to  believe  him. 
I  gave  way  with  reckless  stupidity  to  his  liberal  in- 
jections of  wickedness,  and  by  these  means  sunk 
deeper  and  deeper  in  my  career  of  iniquity.  I 
made  three  successive  voyages  to  the  East  Indies, 
and  New  South  Wales,  in  English  merchant  ves- 
sels, until  November  1839.  In  the  course  of  God's 
providence,  the  vessel  to  which  I  belonged  ran  into 
Port  St.  Louis,  in  the  Mauritius,  and  after  having 
discharged  her  cargo,  was  chartered  to  convey  a 
cargo  of  silk  and  tea.  belonging  to  an  American 
vessel  that  had  been  abandoned  there,  to  the  Uni- 
ted States.  I  arrived  in  this  happy  country  in 
February,  1840;  and  immediately  commenced  a 
series  of  debaucheries,  which  eventually  caused  me 
to  leave  my  vessel.  Nor  did  I  want  for  pretended 
friends,  who  persuaded  me  to  leave  her.  There  I 
first  became  acquainted  with  that  class  of  men, 
whose  rapacious  ways  I  hate,  but  whose  souls  I 
love, — I  mean  the  sailor's  landlord,  the  grog-shop 
friend,  that  is,  while  his  money  lasts.  At  my  own 
home,  f  had  no  intercourse  with  such  men  ;  it  was 
not.  though,  because  there  were  none  in  London, 


134  INCIDENTS  m  i  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

but  because  I  lived  with  my  parents,  and  did  noi 
come  under  their  influence. 

A  FOREMAST  HAND 

To  be  cnnlinutd. 


1  With  much  fair  speech  she  caused  the  youth  to  yield; 
And  forced  him  with  the  flattering  of  her  tongue. 
I  looked  and  saw  him  follow  to  her  house, 
As  goes  the  ox  to  slaughter  ;  as1  the  fool 
To  the  correction  of  the  stocks  ;  or  bird 
That  hastes  into  the  subtle  fowler's  snare. 
And  knows  riot,  simple  thing,  'tis  for  its  life. 
I  saw  him  enter  in,  and  heard  the  door 
Behind  them  shut;  and  in  the  dark  still  night, 
When  God's  unsleeping  eye  alone  can  see, 
He  went  to  her  adulterous  lied.  At  morn 
I  looked,  and  saw  him  not  among  the  youths. 
I  heard  his  father  mourn,  his  mother  weep  : 
For  none  returned  that  went  with  her.     The  dead 
Were  in  her  house;  her  guests  in  depths  of  hell ; 
She  wove  the  winding-sheet  of  souls,  and  laid 
Them  in  the  urn  of  everlasting  death." 

Pollok's  Course  of  Time 


INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

ADDRESSED  TO  SEAMEN.     (Continued.) 

Lafayette  College,  Feb.  1843. 

DEAR  SIR, — Subsequent  to  my  arrival  in  New 
York.  I  made  one  voyage  to  the  southward,  and 
three  to  Europe  ;  during  which  time  my  moral 
character  became  more  and  more  degraded.  It 
will  be  necessary,  however,  to  make  some  remarks 
here  on  the  abounding  goodness  of  God,  during 
this  time,  inasmuch  aa  I  grew  worse  as  I 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  135 

older,  and  lie  did  not  leave  me  to  myself.  I  hud 
left  my  ship,  on  my  first  voyage,  in  Savannah ; 
there  I  sold  my  clothes,  and  spent  iny  money  be- 
fore it  was  due,  for  the  purpose  of  satisfying  my 
appetite  for  drink,  so  intolerable  had  it  become.  \ 
shipped  again  for  Liverpool,  left  my  vessel  there, 
and  joined  the  ship  Harkaway,  of  New  York. 

Ou  the  Saturday  before  we  sailed,  Captain  P 

came  forward,  and  affectionately  invited  us  to  go 
to  church  on  the  morrow,  giving  as  a  reason,  that 
we  were  about  to  sail  on  the  Tuesday,  ancTthat  we 
ought  to  take  the  love  of  God  with  us.  He  spoke 
of  the  Saviour's  calling  the  fishermen  from  the 
shores  of  Galilee,  to  be  his  disciples,  and  of  his 
willingness  to  receive  sailors  now,  and  closed  his 
interesting  discourse  by  exhorting  us  all  to  become 
Christians.  There  may,  perhaps,  be  some  whose 
eyes  will  rest  on  this,  and  who  will  remember  that 

short  sermon  delivered  by  Captain  P ,  some, 

who  perhaps  stood  by  with  me,  and  heard  those 
words  of  exhortation,  and  like  me.  slighted  them  ; 
should  this  meet  the  eye  of  such  a  one,  to  him  let 
me  say,  "  Obey,  and  you'll  be  saved."  For  you 
must  give  an  account  of  it  at  the  bar  of  God. 

"  I  went,  on  the  next  day,  to  the  Seamen's 
Bethel,  and  there,  for  the  first  time,  heard  prayers 
offered  up  for  the  sailor,  and  for  our  own  ship  and 
crew,  too.  This  was  something  strange  to  me,  but 
I  supposed  it  was  a  special  favor  granted  to  the 
captain  by  the  minister,  on  account  of  a  former 
friendship.  I  had  not  then  any  conception  of  the 
brotherly  love  which  reigns  in  the  heart  of  Chris- 
tians. On  the  first  Sabbath  after  our  departure, 
the  captain  called  the  crew  and  passengers  aft,  and 
•°ad  to  us  the  prayers  of  the  Church  of  England, 
•ad  also  explained  them  to  us.  This  he  did  everjf 


136  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE. 

Sabbath,  when  wind  and  weather  would  permit 
If  the  weather  would  not  admit  of  worship  on 
deck,  he  took  us  into  the  cabin,  and  spent  about 
one  hour  and  a  half  in  prayer,  and  explained  the 
Scriptures  j  which  were  generally  the  subject  of 
scorn  and  derision  among  the  crew,  in  the  fore- 
castle. A  library  was  also  brought  on  deck,  and 
distributed  among  those  who  were  inclined  to  read. 
I  often  murmured  because  the  books  were  all  reli- 
gious, and  could  take  no  pleasure  in  reading  them. 
At  the  end  of  the  voyage.  I  was  called  into  the 
cabin  to  receive  my  wages,  and  there  the  captain 
(unwilling  that  my  blood  should  be  on  his  skirt) 
again  affectionately  invited  me  to  turn  to  the  Lord  ; 
he  predicted  my  future  conversion,  but  it  appeared 
very  far  off  to  me.  His  discourse  on  that  occasion 
affected  me  so  much  that  I  must  have  wept,  had 
not  one  of  my  shipmates  entered  the  cabin  at  the 
time,  which  made  me  afraid  of  being  ridiculed.  I 
therefore  immediately  made  my  exit.  I  did  not 
follow  the  advice  of  the  captain.  There  was  on 
board  that  vessel  one  on  whose  mind  the  captain's 
instructions  had  made  some  deep  impressions.  I 
sought  him  out  directly  he  came  on  shore,  and  I 
found  him  at  the  Sailor's  Home,  but  took  very 
good  care  that  he  did  not  remain  in  the  house 
long.  I  led  him  into  the  company  which  I  myself 
kept,  and  under  my  tuition,  he  soon  lost  all  seri- 
ous impressions.  In  my  company  the  prayer- 
meeting  was  set  aside,  and  the  preference  given 
to  the  theatre.  In  a  few  days  we  separated  :  but 
not  till  I  left  him  as  deep  in  the  "  gall  of  bitter- 
ness and  in  the  bond  of  iniquity"  as  myself.  1 
shipped  in  the  brig  Billow,  bound  to  Rochelle.  in 
France,  and  continued  in  the  same  blasphemous 
way  of  living,  until  the  passage  was  half  made 


INCIDENTS   IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  137 

then  the  Lord  arrested  me  again,  through  the 
instrumentality  of  a  tract  called  the ';  Swearer's 
Prayer. ):  On  the  Sabbath  uioruing  one  of  my 
shipmates  handed  some  tracts  to  me,  which  he  said 
had  been  given  him  by  a  person  in  New  York.  I 
read  a  few  lines  of  one,  and  was  immediately  filled 
with  apprehensions  for  the  safety  of  my  soul,  and 
the  souls  of  my  shipmates.  I  knew  not,  previous 
to  that  moment,  that  an  oath  was  a  prayer.  A 
thrilling  sensation  pervaded  my  whole  frame.  I 
turned  to  my  shipmates,  and  in  a  solemn  manner 
told  them  that,  if  that  tract  was  true,  we  truly  were 
in  a  dangerous  situation.  They  smiled,  and  turned 
what  [  said  into  ridicule.  I  found  that  something 
needed  to  be  done,  but  I  knew  not  what.  I  was 
very  anxious  for  the  safety  of  my  immortal  soul. 
I  read  my  Bible,  and  occasionally  reproved  my 
shipmates  for  swearing,  which  caused  me  still 
more  opposition.  However,  in  my  watch  on  deck, 
near  midnight,  I  felt  that  all  would  be  lost  unless 
I  prayed  to  God.  But  in  my  trouble  I  feared  I 
had  been  too  wicked,  and  that  God  would  not  have 
mercy  on  such  a  wretch  as  I  was,  and  when  I  would 
have  prayed,  I  found  within  my  bosom  au  enemy, 
such  as  I  had  never  dreamed  of  before.  My  own 
heart  opposed  me,  and  I  battled  with  it  for  a  half 
hour  before  I  could  fall  on  my  knees.  At  length 
the  good  spirit  prevailed ;  I  poured  out  my  sup- 
plications to  God,  in  the  name  of  Christ,  as  my 
Sunday-school  teachers  had  told  me  to  do  years  be- 
fore. I  arose  from  my  knees  somewhat  calmed  ia 
my  mind  ;  but  I  went  not  again.  T,he  continued 
scoffs  of  my  shipmates  had  their  effect  upon  my 
partially  subdued  heart;  for,  after  battling  against 
them  for  some  two  or  three  days,  in  my  own 
Strength,  it  returned  to  its  wonted  hardness,  and 


138  INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE 

all  my  resolutions  to  become  temperate,  which  had 
been   made  at   this  time,  were  abandoned.     The 
first  evening  after  entering  the  port  of  Rochelle.  ] 
went  on  shore  with  my  shipmates,  and  despite  of 
all  my  promises  to  abstain,  or  the  wrath  of  an  an 
gry  God,  which  tilled  my  mind  with  horror,  and 
caused  me  to  tremble  in  every  limb,  I  swallowed 
the  intoxicating  poison,  and  then  waited  for  death, 
which  I  expected  to  visit  me  on  the  spot,  and  pre- 
vent a  further  violation   of  God's  laws.     Bat  it 
came  not.     I  then  felt  that  all  was  over,  and  that 
I  might  go  on  and  fill  up  the  cup  of  wrath  ;   as  I 
had  gone,  according  to  my  own  judgment,  too  far 
to  be  recalled.     From  that  time  I  became  worse 
than  I  had  been  before  ;  so  that  the  passage  re 
corded  in  Matthew   xii.,  43,  44,  was  in  a  meas- 
ure fulfilled  iii  me,  for  it  seemed  that  when  the 
unclean  spirit  returned,  he  was  stronger  than  be- 
fore.    Thus  I  continued  for  some  months,  till  the 
Lord,  m  the  abundance  of  his  mercy,  brought  me 
to  the  port  of  Boston.     I  was  there  pretty  roughly 
handled  by  old  Alcohol,  spent  all  my  wages,  and 
left  it  again  m  debt,  (as  usual,)  taking  with  me  for  a 
fiea  stock  one  gallon  of  gin,  and  two  pounds  of  to- 
bacco.   I  was  bound  to  Malaga,  in  the  brig  Byron, 
of  Boston,  and  on  the  voyage  I  began  to  feel  it 
necessary   that  I   should   do   something  towards 
ameliorating  my  own  condition.     Other  men  were 
possessed  of  good  clothes,  and  I  was  almost  desft 
tute.     Some  spoke  of  home  and  happy  friends,  but 
mine  were  far  from  me.     I  had  separated  myself 
from  them  by  bad  conduct,  and  saw  no  hope  of 
again  beholding  their  cheering  countenances,  while 
I  continued  in  the  course  I  was   then   pursuing, 
And  what  appeared  still  worse  to  me  was,  that  mv 
shipmates  could  lie  down  (as  far  as  I  could  judgoj 


INCIDENTS    I.N    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  13U 

in  perfect  tranquillity,  while  my  mind  was  wrtured 
with  the  thoughts  of  death  and  hell.  While  oth- 
ers slept  I  wept  over  sin,  and  tried  to  pray.  But 
alas !  I  could  not.  My  mind,  in  the  midst  of  my 
tears,  was  filled  with  curses  and  blasphemies.  But 
when  I  arose  from  my  slumbers  and  resumed  my 
duties,  while  my  mind  was  engaged  in  other  things, 
I  had  a  little  peace,  which  remained  only  as  long 
as  my  thoughts  were  turned  on  my  duty :  that 
done.  I  was  again  troubled  concerning  my  soul. 
To  appease  my  conscience,  my  Bible  was  again 
brought  from  the  bottom  of  my  chest,  where,  by 
some  strange  fatality,  I  always  found  it  when  I 
wished  to  refer  to  it.  From  these  frequent  stir- 
rings I  inferred  that  I  must  do  something  towards 
iny  own  salvation.  Like  every  sinner,  when  first 
awakened  by  a  sense  of  danger,  I  wanted  to  pur- 
chase by  good  works  what  God  has  said  every  man 
must  receive,  "  without  money  and  without  price.1' 

A  FOREMAST  HAND. 
To  f>e  continued. 


THE  SAILOR. 

•  PHAY  for  the  sailor — pray  for  him 

While  tossing  on  the  deep, 
That  harmlessly  the  raging  storm 
May  round  his  vessel  sweep. 

"  When  clouds  o'erhang  the  wintry  *ky, 

And  howls  the  tempest  loud, 
Pray  that  the  angry  billows  may 
Not  be  the  sailor's  shroud. 

'  Pray  for  his  safety  and  return, 

Some  humble  cot  to  cheer, 
Where  hearts  with  pain  and  anguish  bnnc 
In  every  storm's  career. 


140  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILulTS    LIFE. 

Pray  for  the  sailor — that  his  soul, 

When  all  his  toils  are  o'er, 
(n  heaven  be  safely  moored  at  last, 

To  live  for  evermore." 

Sailor's  JMagtunn*. 


INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

ADDRESSED  TO  SEAMEN.     (Continued.) 

Lafayette  Colkge,  May  17,  1843 
I  had  read  in  the  word  of  God,  if  "  any  one  is 
afflicted  among  you,  let  him  pray.  Is  any  merry  1 
let  him  sing  psalms."  1  therefore  had  recourse 
to  my  prayer-book;  and  learned  the  100th  Psalm, 
which  I  attempted  to  use  as  a  substitute  for  the 
songs  I  had  been  wont  to  sing  in  my  leisure  hours. 
I  often  sung  it  with  tears  in  my  eyes  ;  but  it  did 
not  make  me  holy.  My  heart  was  hard  as  ada- 
mant still.  Finding  that  this  course  availed  me 
nothing,  I  resolved  to  board  in  a  Sailor's  Home 
when  the  vessel  arrived  in  Boston,  thinking  that 
if  I  lived  with  respectable  people,  I  should  be 
ashamed  to  act  otherwise  than  they  did.  In  short, 
I  desired'  a  change  in  my  ways,  and  yet  could  not 
let  go  the  world.  This  too  I  found  to  be  "vanity 
and  vexation  of  spirit."  However,  on  the  9th  of 
January,  1841,  the  Lord  brought  me  again  to 
Boston,  and  as  soon  as  the  vessel  was  made  fast, 
I  took  my  clothes  to  the  Sailor's  Home,  on  Fort 
Hill,  was  introduced  to  the  landlord,  and  by  him 
ushered  to  the  reading-room.  J  sat  down  on  the 
chair  nearest  to  the  door,  and  began  to  reconnoi- 
tre. The  first  conclusion  I  came  to  (after  glancing 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  141 

around  the  room  at  the  boarders.)  was  that  I  had 
no  business  there,  unless  I  could  appear  as  decent 
and  respectable  as  they  were.  At  that  time  I  had 
not  a  jacket  to  my  back.  I  therefore  resolved  im- 
mediately that  I  would  become  sober  and  careful ; 
but  resolutions  based  on  so  frail  a  foundation  as 
self,  were  held  inviolate  no  longer  than  till  some 
one  tempted  me  to  break  them.  Cue  resolution 
to  abstain  from  ardent  spirits  I  kept  a  whok  hour  ; 
another  five  days ;  but  on  the  sixth  was  tempted 
by  a  female  to  drink,  and  had  not  sufficient  moral 
courage  to  say,  No  !  and  consequently  broke  my 
promise. 

Oh!  that  the  ladies  knew  the  influence  they 
have  over  the  mind  of  the  sailor,  and  would  use 
that  influence  for  good !  The  following  are  some 
of  the  reasons  why  1  broke  my  resolutions :  I  kept 
the  company  of  those  persons  who  were  in  the 
habit  of  using  the  "  POISON."  I  visited  with  them 
the  theatre,  dance-house,  circus  and  rum-shop,  and 
was  therefore  continually  in  the  midst  of  tempta- 
tion, which,  when  resisted,  laid  me  open  to  the 
taunts  and  jeers  of  my  companions,  which  I  could 
not  stand  without  divine  help.  I  drank  nothing 
but  cider,  it  is  true,  yet  that  led  me  in  the  way  of, 
and  increased  my  desire  for  something  stronger. 
Breaking  my  resolutions  thus,  from  time  to  time, 
I  felt  that  it  was  useless  to  make  any  more,  as  it 
was  but  lying  continually.  With  this  view  of  my 
own  frailty  and  weakness,  instead  of  renewing  my 
determination  to  become  temperate,  and  seeking 
help  from  on  high,  I  (on  the  contrary),  gave  way 
with  reckless  stupidity  to  the  cravings  of  iny  insa- 
tiable thirst,  and  determined  to  try  to  reform  no 
more ;  but  to  resume  my  former  way  of  living. 
But  '•  God's  ways  are  not  as  our  ways,  nor  hia 


142  IJNClDENTb    IK    A    s^iLOl.  S    LIFE. 

thoughts  as  our  thoughts,"  or  he  had  left  me  to 
myself  to  fill  up  the  '•  cup  of  wrath  against  the  day 
of  wrath."  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  dealt  not 
with  me  as  I  deserved.  He  did  not  sufler  me  to 
follow  the  dictates  of  my  own  sinful  heart.  He  saw 
me  give  up  to  sinful  pleasures,  and  his  bowels  oi 
compassion  were  open  to  me.  He  stretched  forth 
his  hand,  and  plucked  me  from  the  brink  of  eternal 
death. 

The  week  had  been  spent  in  revellings  and 
drunkenness.  The  theatre  was  preferred  to  the 
prayer-meeting,  and  Sabbath  morning  found  me  aa 
reckless  and  impenitent  as  before.  On  that  morn- 
ing (the  17th,)  the  landlord,  (Capt.  Buffun.)  came 
into  the  reading-room,  where  1  was  sitting,  and  in- 
quired  who  would  go  to  church.  Some  of  the  men 
rose  to  go  with  him  ;  but  I  sat  still.  He  theii  ad- 
dressed me  personally,  and  requested  me  to  gt, 
with  him  to  the  Mariner's  Church.  I  consented, 
rather  reluctantly,  and  remarked,  that  as  it  was 
snowing,  I  might  as  well  go  there  as  anywhere 
else,  to  while  away  the  time  till  noon.  1  went. 
But  so  far  from  whiling  away  the  time,  the  Lord 
there  taught  me  the  true  value  of  it.  The  text 
was  taken  from  Haggai,  1st  chapter  and  5th  verse : 
^  Now,  therefore,  thus  saith  the  Lord  of  hosts :  con 
sider  your  ways."  And  in  so  glaring  a  light  was 
the  situation  of  the  sinner  portrayed,  that  the 
truth  carried  an  arrow  of  conviction  to  my  heart, 
and  left  there  a  wound,  for  which  I  could  find  no 
healing  balm,  no  antidote,  till  JESUS;  appeared  in  all 
his  loveliness,  and  spoke  comfort  to  my  troubled 
soul  by  his  ''  peace-speaking  blood." 

When  I  felt  the  horrors  of  my  situation,  I  lis- 
tened very  attentively  to  hea.r  of  the  remedy.  I 
beard  that  the  only  way  to  obtain  peace,  was,  to 


INCIDENTS    IX    A    SAILORS    LIFE.  143 

give  my  heart  and  soul  to  Christ,  without  reserve 
or  delay.  This  however  appeared  to  ine  to  be  un- 
necessary. I  went  to  church  again  in  the  after- 
noon and  evening,  hoping  to  find  some  way  by 
which  I  might  be  saved  without  entirely  giving  up 
the  world.  To  resign  my  worldly  pleasure*  was 
too  great  a  sacrifice.  My  shipmates  would  laugh 
me  to  scorn.  I  could  not  keep  their  company, 
and  must  therefore  be  ridiculed.  All  these  things 
were  set  before  my  mind's  eye,  in  their  most  lively 
colors,  by  the  archenemy  of  souls. 

In  the  evening,  at  the  "  Monthly  Concert  of 
Prayer  for  SEAMEN"  I  heard  some  letters  read  bj 
the  pastor,  which  he  had  received  from  pious  sea- 
men. They  carried  to  my  heart  a  desire  to  feel  as 
the  writers  profess  to  feel.  New  sensations,  crowd- 
ing one  upon  another,  filled  my  soul  with  such 
views  of  my  own  nothingness,  as  I  had  never  be- 
fore experienced.  « 

I  saw  myself  a  lost,  ruined,  guilty,  and  de- 
praved worm  of  the  dust,  to  whom  nothing  re- 
mained in  justice  to  my  former  life,  but  the  black- 
ness of  darkness  ;  and  if  any  thing  could  increase 
the  astonishment  I  felt  at  the  long-suffering  and 
forbearing  mercy  of  the  Lord  toward  my  guilty 
soul,  it  was  the  scene  which  followed  the  reading 
of  the  letters.  I  saw  with  surprise  several  respect- 
able looking  seamen  in  different  parts  of  the  house, 
rise,  and  declare  their  allegiance  to  the  King  of 
kings,  and  claim  him  as  ';  the  Lord  of  their  right- 
eousness." They  told  of  deliverance  from  hell 
and  the  grave,  through  the  merits  of  the  Redeemer 
They  spoke  of  the  joy  arising  from  a  sense  of  par 
doned  sin,  and  the  happiness  experienced  wink 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty's  wing. 

Here  new  wonders   burst  in  upon  my  soul ;  it 


144  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR 's    LIFE. 

shrunk  from  itself ;  desired  to  look  up,  but  dared 
not,  so  great  was  the  mountain  of  sins.  A  sailor 
pious  !  It  was  to  me  a  miracle.  I  loathed  myself. 
Death  stared  me  in  the  face,  as  my  just  aeserts. 
The  horrors  of  a  broken  law  appalled  w  f  guilty 
soul.  I  saw  myself  condemned,  and  acknowledged 
my  sentence  just. 

When    the   services  were  closed,    1    returned 
home,  and  crept  to  my  bed  almost  in  a-rspair.     I 
would  willingly  have  prayed  before  retiring,  but 
the   fear  of  man    prevented   me.       rvs    willingly 
would  I  have  eased  my  mind  with  piomises  of  the 
future;  but  conscience  said  that  it  wyuld  not  heal 
the  past.     I  would  have  slept,  but  1  could  not.     I 
desired  to  banish  from  my  thoa'/nw  both  of  the 
past  and  of  the  future ;  but  thn  arrow  of  convic- 
tion rankled  in  the  newly  openetf  wound,  and  set 
both  peace  and  rest  fit  defiance.     In  that  dread 
hour,  while  suffering  the  exctuciating  agonies  of  a 
tortured  mind,  and  writhing  under  the  influence 
of  dark  despair — then  came  6atan,  to  goad  my 
already  burdened  conscience  by  casting  up  the 
mountains  of  my  sins,  which  appeared  to  separate 
me  from  the  only  one  to  whom  I  could  look  for 
pardon  and  peace.     The  following  were  a  few  of 
the  mo.st  impassable,  my  conception  of  God  being 
so  poor  and  limited  :  "  You  are  too  late  now.    You 
ha^e   sinned  away  your  day  of  grace ;  to  pray  is 
useless  !     You  cannot  be   forgiven."     All  this  I 
felt  inclined   to   believe.      The  offers  of  mercy  I 
had  rejected,  the  neglected  morning  and  evening 
worship,  and  the  prayer-meetings  at  the    Home, 
that  I  had  refused  to  attend ;  also  the  theatre  I 
had  chosen  in  its  stead,  all  rose  up  against  me  in 
dread  array,  and  awakened  within  me  a  desire  to 
•erve  God  with  all  my  heart.     I  accordingly  re- 


INCIDENTS  IN  A  s.x  LOR'S  LIFE.  14fl 

jueotc  i  a  friend  to  call  me  early  in  the  morning, 
that  1  might  attend  the  family  worship.  I  arose 
befoij  daylight  in  the  morning,  and  descended  to 
the  reading  room.  On  entering,  I  perceived  by 
the  light  of  the  lamp,  that  the  Bible  was  open.  A 
thought  immediately  darted  across  my  mind,  that 
w)ine  passage  in  that  good  book  would  convey 
peace  to  :ny  troubled  soul.  I  read,  and  the  fol- 
lowing words  solemnly  impressed  my  mind.  "  Saul, 
Saul,  why  persecutes!  thou  me  ?:)  I  burst  into  a 
flood  of  tears,  and  felt  truly.  "  that  it  was  hard  to 
kick  against  the  pricks."  I  turned  to  the  person 
who  was  in  the  room  with  me.  and  said,  "  Mr.  Hall, 
I  have  need  of  the  same  power  that  converted 
Saul,  to  bring  my  soul  from  the  path  of  destruc- 
tion." 

He  conversed  with  me  some  time  on  the  subject 
of  religion,  but  without  the  desired  effect.  He 
pointed  ine  to  the  "  Lamb  of  God,  that  taketh 
away  the  sins  of  the  world  ;''  but  my  heart  was  not 
sufficiently  subdued  to  cast  off  the  world  entirely. 
The  wound  was  not  sufficiently  deep  to  induce  me 
to  seek  the  true  balm  of  Gilead.  After  breakfast, 
with  my  mind  in  this  perturbed  state,  I  left  the 
house?.  t.c  seek  in  other  scenes  some  change  of  feel- 
ing, something  to  alleviate  the  pains  and  quench 
the  fir^f  that  with  indomitable  fury  burned  withiu. 
Just  as  well  might  I  have  striven  to  fly  from  self 
and  seek  utter  annihilation,  as  to  fly  from  either 
the  Spirit  or  the  presence  of  God. 

A  FOREMAST  HA  NO, 

To  be  continued. 

13 


I  46  INCIDENTS    IN'    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE. 


•MY  SPIRIT  SHALL  NOT  ALWAYS  STIUVV 
GEM.  vi.  3. 

11  PAY,  sinner,  hath  a  voice  within, 

Oft  whisper'd  to  thy  secret  soul, 
Urg'd  thce  to  leave  the  ways  of  sin, 
And  yield  thy  heart  to  God's  control  1 

"  Hath  something  met  thee  in  the  path 

Of  worldliness  and  vanity, 
And  pointed  to  the  coming  wrath, 

And  warned  thee  from  that  wrath  to  flee  I 

'•  Sinner,  it  was  a  heavenly  voice, 

It  was  the  Spirit's  gracious  call, 
L  bade  thee  make  the  better  choice, 
And  haste  to  seek  in  Christ  thine  all. 

u  Spurn  not  the  call  to  life  and  light; 
Regard  in  time  the  warning  kind  ; 
That  call,  thou  inay'st  not  always  slight, 
And  yet  the  grace  of  mercy  find, 

"God's  Spirit  will  not  always  strive 

With  harden  d,  self-destroying  man  ; 
Ye,  who  persist  his  love  to  grieve, 
May  never  hear  his  voice  again. 

"  Sinner — perhaps  this  very  day, 

Thy  last  accepted  hour  may  be; 
Oh,  should'st  thou  grieve  him  thus  awat 
Then  hope  may  never  beam  on  thee. 

IlTfe. 


INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

ADDRESSED   TO  SEAMEN.      {Continued.) 

Lafayette  College,  June  20,  18-13. 
After  leaving  the  house,   I  shaped  rny  coum 
for  the  wharves,  and   strolled  about  among  the 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    MFE.  147 

shipping  without  any  fixedness  of  purpose  ;  out 
had  not  wandered  far  when  I  met  two  of  the  sea- 
men wlio  were  boarding  at  the  Sailor's  Home. 

One  of  Miem  accosted  me  with,  "  Well,  C e, 

uhat  do  jou  say  for  New  Orleans?" 

Without  considering  what  I  was  saying  or  do- 
ing. I  consented  to  go  with  them,  and  immediately 
proceeded  to  the  ship.  We  waited  a  few  minutes 
for  the  capiam,  and  when  he  came  on  board,  after 
asking  a  lew  questions  concerning  the  wages,  I 
signed  the  articles  to  go  to  New  Orleans  and  Eu- 
rope, and  agreed  to  go  on  board  the  same  afternooi 
at  four  o'clocK. 

On  my  way  back  to  the  Home  I  began  to  re- 
fleet  on  what  I  nad  done,  and  to  think  of  my 
poor  dear  mother  from  whom  I  had  been  absent 
three  years  and  a  half.  I  resolved  to  write  to  her 
and  tell  her  of  my  whereabouts,  (for  she  knew  it 
not,  but  was  looking  daily  for  my  return).  When 
I  reached  the  Home  I  did  so  ;  and  while  writing, 
my  mind  was  racked  with  the  fears  of  death  and 
hell,  which  caused  me  to  feel  (and  express  it  too) 
that  the  way  of  the  transgressor  is  hard.  I  had 
a  strong  presentiment  that  I  should  be  lost  in  that 
vessel,  and  felt  that  I  richly  deserved  it  too. 

Under  this  impression  1  wrote  a  second  letter 
to  my  mother,  after  which  I  called  the  landlord, 
and  placing  in  his  hands  her  address,  requested 
him  if  any  thing  should  happen  to  me  on  the  pas- 
sage,  to  secure  my  money  and  clothes,  (such  as 
they  were.)  and  send  them  to  my  mother,  so  strong 
was  my  presentiment  that  the  Lord  would  spara 
me  no  longer. 

He  promised  that  he  w»uld  comply  with  my 
request,  if  necessary  ;  and  after  eyeing  me  for  a 
moment  with  apparent  concern,  he  arose  and  left 


148  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILORS    LIFE. 

the  room,  beckoning  me  to  follow  him,  which  T  did 
with  mingled  sensations  of  fear  and  shame,  for  I 
thought  that  he  had  taken  notice  of  the  alteration 
of  my  conduct,  and  I  felt  almost  ashamed  of  myseli 
for  having  manifested  so  much  concern  for  ray  own 
safety.  I  followed  him  however  to  a  private  rooru; 
nnd  listened  to  him  with  interest  while  he  de- 
scribed the  state  of  a  soul  out  of  Christ.  I  thought 
my  heart  would  burst  with  grief,  when  I  saw  my- 
self just  in  the  same  condition  as  he  had  pictured 
the  unbeliever  ;  and.  in  the  bitterness  of  my  heart 
J  gave  vent  to  a  flood  of  tears,  such  as  I  had  never 
shed  before.  I  felt  myself  a  great  criminal  in  the 
pres  'tice  of  my  offended  Judge,  while  the  sword  of 
justice  hung  over  my  head  suspended  by  a  hair. 
I  felt  lost !  lost ! !  forever.  The  thunders  of  Sinai 
appeared  ready  to  burst  upon  me  and  overwhelm 
my  troubled  mind.  I  "  believed  and  trembled." 
My  friend,  in  his  eagerness  to  benefit  .my  soul, 
probed  the  wound  to  the  quick,  and  then,  like  a 
skilful  physician,  applied  the  healing  balm,  "  the 
balm  of  Gilead,"  that  serves  to  make  the  wounded 
whole,  to  melt  the  shackles  of  sin,  and  set  the  pris- 
oner free.  He  told  me  of  the  Saviour  and  his  for- 
giving love,  of  his  desire  that  none  should  perish, 
but  that  all  should  inherit  eternal  life,  and  of  the 
sacrifice  he  made  to  purchase  redemption  for  fal- 
len man.  These  truths,  beautiful  as  they  are. 
cast  but  a  momentary  gleam  across  my  pathway, 
and  seemed  but  to  render  my  case  still  more  hope- 
less I  then  saw  my  own  deformity  for  the  first 
time  in  its  true  light;  that  gleam  ef  light  served 
but  to  expose  the  hidden  corruptions  of  my  nature, 
and  having  done  this,  left  me  in  still  greater  dark- 
ness. I  saw  not  the  efficacy  of  the  S'irioitr'x  blooa 
to  wash  out  suck  deep-stained  guilt  as  that  which 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SA:LCR?S    LIFE.  14S 

had  taken  possession  of  my  soul ;  I  therefore  felt 
assured  that  Christ  would  not  forgive  so  vile  a 
worm  of  the  dust.  I  saw  myself  a  fit  object  for 
God  to  exercise  his  divine  wrath  upon,  inasmuch 
as  I  had  cast  away  and  slighted  the  sure  mercies 
of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  and  was  now  grasping  at 
that  which  was  forever  removed  beyond  my  reach. 
And  -  was  mercy  clean  gone  forever  ?"  Could  the 
Lord  forgive  one  who  had  sinned  against  His  Most 
Holy  Law  for  twenty  years  ? — Would  he  conde- 
scend to  return  and  love  MIC  freely  1  Was  his 
anger  indeed  turned  away?  Yes!  Glorious 
truth  '  Soul  cheering  assurance  !  "  It  is  I.  against 
whom  you  have  sinned,"  says  the  Saviour.  "  Be  not 
afraid.'1'1  "I  am  the  way.  the  truth,  and  the  life." 
'•  He  that  believeth  on  me,  though  he  were  dead, 
yet  shall  he  live."  Rise  then,  ye  that  are  dead  in 
trespasses  and  sins  !  seamen  obey  the  call  and  be  saved. 
He  will  give  you  life  eternal. 

My  friend  told  me  that  he  had  sinned  against 
the  same  Lord  and  Saviour  thirty  years ;  yet  had 
he  been  rescued  from  the  brink  of  the  pit,  and  that 
the  Saviour  was  willing  to  save  me  though  in  the 
same  perilous  condition  ;  that  he  had  carried  the 
Redeemer  to  sea  in  his  heart,  and  that  it  was  not 
difficult  (when  Jesus  was  on  board),  to  endure  the 
scoffs  and  jeers  of  his  impious  shipmates. 

These  salutary  truths  seemed  to  inspire  me  with 
courage,  and  with  a  desire  to  spend  the  remainder 
of  ray  days  in  the  service  of  such  a  Master.  Ob- 
serving perhaps  some  likelihood  of  change  in  my 
conduct,  he  pressed  upon  me  the  necessity  of  seek- 
ing the  Lord  in  my  closet,  and  begged  me  to  seek 
counsel  from  my  Saviour  in  all  things,  whether  ol 
%  temporal  or  spiritual  nature,  assuring  me  at  tlm 
lame  time,  from  the  page  of  Holy  writ,  that  ha 
13* 


15C  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SA  ILOK's    LIFE. 

would  never  leave  or  forsake  me,  or  any  other  per« 
eon  who  put  their  trust  in  him.  Before  leaving 
him  I  felt  determined  to  seek  the  Lord  and  strive 
to  serve  him.  I  had  read,  when  very  young,  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  by  Bunyan,  and  its  truths  ; 
many  of  them  came  into  my  mind,  which  caused  a 
desire  to  read  that  good  book  again  I  sought  to 
obtain  a  copy  of  it,  that  I  might  discern  how  far 
I  had  travelled  on  the  road  to  ruin.  But  alas  . 
I  was  only  on  the  point  of  leaving  the  "  city  of  De- 
Btruction,"  though  I  afterwards  fell  in  the  "  Slough 
of  Despond." 

The  next  morning,  as  I  was  about  to  leave  the 
house  to  go  on  board,  (for  the  vessel  did  not  sail 
as  appointed,)  my  friend  Captain  Buti'um  brought 
me  a  copy  of  the  desired  work,  and  with  it  another 
little  book  called  the  Christian's  Daily  Food,  and 
begged  me  to  read  it  whenever  I  had  an  opportu- 
nity ;  but  above  all.  said  he,  "  seek  Christ  the  sin- 
ner's friend,"  and  hoist  your  colors  directly  when 
you  get  on  board,  that  your  shipmates  may  see 
what  you  intend  doing,  as  though  he  had  said,  show 
them  that  you  intend  to  fight  under  the  blood- 
stained banner  of  the  cross.  Shortly  after  receiv- 
ing this  counsel,  I  left  the  house  with  a  bundle  of 
clothes  under  my  arm,  and  proceeded  towards  the 
vessel.  But  scarce  had  I  crossed  the  threshold, 
before  my  mind  was  filled  with  sadness  at  the 
thought  of  leaving  the  place  which,  I  trust,  was 
the  birth-place  of  my  soul  unto  righteousness.  It 
vus  indeed  a  Sailor's  Home  to  my  soul.  Oh,  that 
it  may  prove  so  to  many  more  t)f  the  tempest- 
tossed  sous  of  the  deep  !  I  then  remembered  that 
I  was  about  to  leave  the  place  which  abounded  in 
religious  privileges,  and  cast,  myself  among  men  that 
feared  not  the  Loi  i  neither  sought  a  knowledge  o! 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  15| 

nifl  ways.  1  remembered  too,  that  only  a  week  pro 
vious.  I  had  be.'n  invited  to  the  prayer-meeting  in 
that  house,  and  had  given  the  theatre  the  preference 
and  now,  that  I  would  have  given  worlds  to  have 
enjoyed  the  privileges,  I  was  forced  to  leave  it,  and 
i:i at  too  on  the  very  day  on  which  that  prayer-meet- 
ing  was  to  be  held.  I  felt  that  I  was  tearing  my- 
sel  away  frum  all  that  was  dear  to  me  in  life  ;  and 
while  tears,  scalding  tears  of  contrition,  coursed 
their  way  in  rapid  succession  down  my  burning 
cheeks,  I  cast  my  bundle  in  the  street,  and  ran 
back  to  the  house  to  beg  an  interest  in  their  pray 
ers  when  they  met  in  the  evening.  I  saw  a  pious 
man  in  the  doorway,  and  requested  him  to  pray 
for  me  that  I  might  hold  out  as  a  bright  and  shin- 
ing light  on  board  the  vessel,  and  be  finally  saved 
through  Christ  the  Redeemer.  I  went  away  some- 
what relieved  by  the  promise  he  made  me  to  com- 
ply with  my  request,  and  in  a  few  moments  I  was 
on  board  and  ready  to  Bail.  The  crew  were  or- 
dered to  get  breakfast,  and  I  went  below  with  them, 
thinking  that  it  was  better  for  me  to  commence 
the  work  of  the  Lord  at  once  than  to  leave  it  un- 
done until  the  ship  was  out  at  sea.  I  took  from 
iny  chest  the  Bible  which  had  been  so  long  buried 
beneath  the  clothes  at  the  bottom  of  it.  and  read, 
Joinmencing  at  the  first  chapter  of  Genesis. 

It  will  perhaps  be  needless  to  tell  you,  my  reader, 
that  I  was  laughed  at.  But  the  day  in  which  a 
blaspheming  shipmate  could  drive  me  from  the 
word  of  God  I  trust,  had  already  passed  away.  I 
felt  that  their  jeers  and  scoffs  could  not  hurt  me 
while  God  was  my  friend;  and  that  their  smilos, 
could  I  pain  them,  would  avail  me  nothing  in  the 
day  of  K'd&tnent.  And  now  I  rejoice  in  the  bliss 
ful  hrf*,  that  all  such  days,  with  th  >ir  sins  and  in 


152  INCIDENTS    IN    A    S/  ILORTS    LYE. 

iquities,  have  been  fore-vcr  banished  from  the  bo.')ll 
vf  God's  remembrance. 

A  FOREMAST  HAND. 

To  be  continued.  \ 


1  AWAK'D  by  Sinai's  awful  sound, 
My  soul  in  bonds  of  guilt  I  found, 

And  knew  not  where  to  go ; 
Eternal  truth  did  loud  proclaim, 
1  The  sinner  must  be  born  again, 
Or  sink  to  endless  woe.' 

"  When  to  the  law  I  trembling  fled, 
It  poured  its  curses  on  my  head, — 

I  no  relief  could  find  ; 
This  fearful  truth  increas-'d  my  pain, 
The  sinner  must  be  born  again,' 

And  whelm'd  my  tortured  mind. 

"  Again  did  Sinai's  thunders  roll, 
And  guilt  lay  heavy  on  my  soul, 

A  vast  oppressive  load  ; 
Alas !  I  read  and  saw  it  plain, 
1  The  sinner  must  be  born  again,' 
Or  drink  the  wrath  of  God. 

'•  The  saints  I  heard  with  rapture  tell, 
How  Jesus  conquered  Death  and  Hell, 

And  broke  the  fowler's  snare ; 
Yet,  when  I  found  this  truth  remain, 
•The  sinner  must  be  born  again/ 
I  sunk  in  deep  despair. 

*  But  while  I  thus  in  anguish  lay, 

The  gracious  Saviour  pass'd  this  way, 

And  felt  his  pity  move  ; 
The  sinner,  by  his  justice  slain, 
Now  by  his  grace  is  born  again, 
And  sings  redeeming  love. 

Oc«n 


INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOK'S  LIFE.  153 

INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

.ADDRESSED  TO  SEAMEN.     (Continued.) 

Lafayette  College,  July  18,  1843. 

DEAR  READER  : — When  I  commenced  writing 
this  narrative  for  your  perusal,  hoping  that  God 
might  be  glorified  and  your  soul  benefited  by  it,  I 
did  not  intend  carrying  it  to  so  great  a  length.  I 
have  therefore  detained  you  much  longer  than  I 
expected  wheu  I  got  under  weigh.  However,  if 
you  will  bear  with  me  a  little  longer,  and  I  can. 
have  the  indulgence  of  our  kind  friend  the  editor, 
I  will  proceed. 

1  left  you,  or  you  left  me,  rather,  last  month, 
sitting  in  the  forecastle  of  the  ship  Birmingham, 
reading  my  Bible.  I  had  not  read  long,  before 
one  of  the  crew  came  to  me.  and  asked  me  if  I 
was  religious.  (Here  Satan  tempted  me).  I  an- 
swered, ';  I  am  not,  (here  grace  prevailed,)  but 
through  grace  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  intend 
to  become  a  Christian  ;  or,  at  least,  to  try  it 
for  a  season  :  for  I  have  served  Satan  twenty-two 
years,  and  have  received  no  remuneration  for  my 
labors.  I  have  fought  long  and  well  for  him.  with 
a  zeal  worthy  of  a  better  cause ;  yet  am  I  unre- 
warded, save  by  the  tortures  of  a  guilty  conscience. 
Now  is  my  determination  settled.  I  will  serve 
God,  if  He  be  my  helper/'  My  shipmate  smiled, 
as  though  in  doubt  as  to  the  stability  of  my  deter- 
mined resolution,  and  said  it  was  well  if  I  could 
w  stick  to  it."  I  suffered  much  in  my  mind  till 
towards  noon,  when  I  took  from  my  pocket  the  lit- 
tle book  (Daily  Food.)  given  to  me  ly  brother  Buf 
taui,  and  real  "  if  any  mun  sin,  we  have  an  Ad- 


154  INCIDLNTS    IN    A    SA   LOli's    LIFi. 

vocatt  with  the  Father,  even  Jesus  Clnist,  th« 
Righteous,  and  He  is  the  propitiation  for  our  sins, 
and  not  for  ours  only,  but  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world."  And  beneath  that  the  following  lines  ; 

"  He  (Christ)  ever  lives  to  intercede 

Before  his  Father's  face, 
Give  him,  my  soul,  thy  cause  to  plead, 
Nor  doubt  a  Father's  grace." 

Here  the  mystery  appeared  solved.  I  had  been 
doubting  a  Father's  grace ;  but  I  determined  to 
do  so  no  more.  I  stowed  myself  away  in  the  be- 
tween-decks,  among  the  cargo,  and  cried,  "  0-Lord  ! 
if  I  must  perish,  let  it  be  here,  even  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross,  where  never  yet  man  perished,  at  the 
feet  of  a  crucified  Redeemer."  The  turbulence  of 
my  mind  being  somewhat  allayed  by  this  prayer, 
through  the  intercession  of  a  Divine  Mediator,  I 
arose  from  my  knees,  and  resumed  my  duty  with 
more  hope  than  before.  Now,  the  moral  gloom 
which  had  hitherto  enshrouded  my  mind,  was  in  a 
measure  alleviated  ;  and  I,  began  to  breathe  more 
freely,  indulging  a  faint  hope  that  God  would,  for 
Christ's  sake,  have  mercy  on  my  sin-polluted  and 
heavy-burdened  soul.  But  since  the  first  rays  of 
an  eternal  light  h;td  been  partially  unfolded  to  my 
view,  I  determined,  with  all  the  energies  of  my 
eoul,  to  perish  only  there,  feeling  like  Esther  of 
old  ;  "  If  I  perish,  I  perish." 

I  embraced  every  opportunity  I  could  get,  with- 
out  neglecting  my  duty,  to  seek  my  Bethel,  the 
BETHKSDA  OF  MY  SOUL,  and  there  pour  my  com- 
plaints and  sorrows  into  the  ear  of  Omnipotence. 
Our  vessel  having  left  the  wharf  at  Boston  about 
1 1  A.  M.,  with  a  string  north-wester,  by  night  w« 
Were  well  clear  of  the  land :  the  watches  were  set 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  155 

and  •  ras  chosen  by  the  chief  mate.  While  pacing 
the  deck  with  my  watchmates.  every  one  had  his 
own  peculiar  yarn  to  spin  about  landlords  and  land- 
ladies, and  some  began  to  form  their  plans  for  the 
nest  port,  or  to  make  good  promises  for  the  future. 
Alas !  made  only  to  be  broken,  should  they  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  "  laud  shark."  I  joined  them 
in  their  walk,  and  for  the  first  time  in  my  life, 
found  that  I  had  nothing  to  talk  about.  Nothing, 
did  I  say  ?  I  had  something.  I  had  an  inex- 
haustible theme.  But,  the  question  arose,  Shall 
I  broach  it  ?  "  No"  said  Satan,  "  they  will  revile 
you."  "  Blessed  are  ye  when  men  shall  revile  you 
for  my  sake,"  says  the  Saviour.  I  did  bring  this 
truth  before  them  :  '•  The  way  of  transgressors  is 
hard."  but  was  almost  immediately  overpowered 
with  opposing  arguments ;  among  which,  that  I 
should  prove  a  hypocrite  in  the  end,  was  not  the 
least.  I  now  saw  for  the  first  time  also,  the  emi- 
nent danger  I  was  in  of  clinging  to  the  world,  and 
found  myself,  at  the  time  when  I  most  required  re- 
ligious aid  and  instruction,  afloat  among  a  set  of 
men  as  bad  as  myself,  and,  therefore,  could  expect 
no  consolation  from  them.  In  this  crisis  I  flew  to 
him  who  was  alone  '•  mighty  to  save,"  nor  did  I 
plead  in  vain. 

Two  days  after  leaving  Boston,  while  sitting  at 
dinner  in  the  forecastle,  I  heard  that  appalling 
cry  :  ':  A  man  overboard."  Sailors  will  know  what 
my  feelings  were,  for  they  have  felt  them.  But 
the  landsman  must  hear  it  before  he  can  possibly 
sympathize  with  me.  For  pen  cannot  describe, 
nor  pencil  delineate  the  horror  that  is  depicted  on 
the  countenance  of  the  seaman,  as  he  beholds  kit 
shipmate  struggling  with  the  mighty  waves  of 
ocean,  and  sees  that  he  cannot  render  him  any  as- 


156  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOIl's   LIFE. 

Bistance.  I  rushed  on  deck,  and  ran  forward  with 
the  rest  of  the  crew,  but  alas  !  was  only  in  time  to 
gee  the  vessel  leap  upon  his  defenceless  head,  like 
a  beast  of  the  forest  on  its  prey,  and  the  wat/.j-* 
closed  over  him  forever.  The  crew  then  ran  aft. 
hoping  that  he  would  rise  again  ;  but  in  vain.  1  ran 
up  to  the  mizeu-top,  and  watched  for  him,  but  my 
search  was  fruitless.  While  there,  I  prayed  tc 
God  in  the  anguish  of  my  soul,  for  fear  that  I 
should  be  the  next  cut  off  with  all  rny  sins  upon 
me. 

In  a  short  time  after  the  above  event,  I  learned 
that  it  was  a  Christian  duty  to  deny  self  for  Christ's 
sake.  1  therefore  made  way  with  cards,  dice,  song- 
books,  dream-books,  novels,  romances,  tobacco,  and 
all  intoxicating  drinks,  and  prayed  the  Lord  to 
erase  the  very  thoughts  of  them  from  my  memory. 

My  shipmates  now  called  my  attention  ;  I  longed 
for  their  conversion  ;  I  plead  with  them,  and  they 
persecuted  me.  One,  however,  listened  to  the  tale 
of  a  Saviour's  sufferings  and  death,  and  wept  over 
them  too.  He  agreed  with  me  that  we  should  tra- 
vel the  heavenly  pathway  together ;  we  prayed  toge- 
ther ;  but  scarce  had  we  taken  our  departure  from 
the  city  of  Destruction,  before  he,  fell  into  the  Slough 
of  Despond,  and  in  his  fear  came  very  nigh  ruining 
me.  He  turned  back  to  the  world,  while  1.  through 
grace,  determined  to  perish  (if  need  be)  in  an  at- 
tempt to  reach  the  opposite  shore  :  and  I  trust  my 
determination  was  not  made  in  vain.  I  continued 
to  warn  my  shipmates  still:  but  my  companion  de- 
clared that  he  had  sinned  against  the  Holy  Ghost. 
He  thought  that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  bo 
saved  ;  and  while  in  this  disturbed  state  of  mind, 
he  filled  me  also  with  apprehensions  of  the  same 
direful  import.  Yet  iu  ali  this  grace  was  my  d» 


T  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE.  151 

Iiverer.  I  collected  my  shipmates  on  the  forecas- 
tle on  the  Sabbath  day,  and  read  tracts  and  good 
books  to  them.  But  in  a  short  time  some  of  them 
cursed  me  for  reading  what  they  called  "  Christ- 
killing  tracts,"  fearing  (to  use  their  own  words) 
that  the  •'  ship  would  be  carried  to  heaven  in  a 
hurry."  Our  good  ship,  notwithstanding,  sped  on 
her  course  ;  each  day  bringing  with  it  some  slan- 
derings  or  curses  to  me,  on  account  of  my  relig- 
ious principles.  While  reading  my  Bible,  some 
would  sit  beside  me.  and  sing  some  blackguard 
song,  or  relate  some  obscene  story,  to  draw  my 
mind  away  from  the  Word  of  God. 

In  the  providence  of  God.  after  a  passage  of 
forty-four  days,  we  arrived  at  New  Orleans.  But 
0  !  how  was  my  heart  pained  when  forced  to  be- 
hold the  total  desecration  of  the  Sabbath.  I  was 
horror-stricken  when  I  saw,  on  that  holy  day,  the 
market  thronged  with  purchasers  and  salesmen, 
the  grog-shops  filled  with  men  callous  to  every  good 
and  holy  feeling,  and  giving  vent  to  the  most  hor- 
rid curses  and  blasphemies  ;  and  the  tables  sur- 
rounded with  gamblers,  whose  souls  appeared  to 
hang  upon  the  hazard  of  the  die  ;  so  intently  were 
they  engaged  in  their  lawless  pursuits.  These 
things  shocked  me  so  that  I  left  my  vessel  as  soon 
as  she  was  discharged,  and  took  up  my  abode  at 
tho  Sailor's  Home,  where  I  found  several  pious  sea- 
men, and  after  a  short  stay,  shipped  with  them  in 
a  ship  bound  to  the  port  of  Philadelphia. 

We  had  not  been  long  on  board  before  the  Lord 
gave  us  one  of  those  who  sailed  with  us  for  our 
hire.  On  the  10th  of  May.  we  reached  our  port 
of  destination,  and  on  the  23d,  three  of  my  ship- 
mates besides  myself,  united  ourselves  in  an  ever- 
lasting covenant  with  the  Lamb  of  God  in  his  holj 
14 


158  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE. 

sanctuary,  (the  Mariner's  Church)  under  the  car« 
of  the  llev.  Q.  Douglass. 

Thanks  to  the  good  people  of  the  land,  tlia  the 
sailor  has  now  a  place  where  he  can  worship  his 
God,  when  his  perilous  voyage  is  ended.  May 
the  blessing-  of  God  rest  upon  all  who  have  aided 
in  this  good  work  !  is  the  pious  sailor's  prayer.  Tt 
is  necessary  that  I  should  say  but  little  more,  and 
therefore,  if  my  reader  will  just  ••  lay  to"  till  next 
month.  I  will  conclude  this  brief,  rcrt/  briff  narra- 
tive of  my  life.  And  I  hope  that  the  memory  of 
the  writer  and  the  patience  of  the  reader  may  not 
liave  been  taxed  in  vain. 

A  FOREMAST   HA.ND. 
To  ke  continued. 


MY    SAILOR    BOY. 

BY    MARY  S.    B.  DANA. 

"  THK  storm  is  loud,  the  waves  run  hijjh, 
Ami  clouds  have  darkened  all  the  sky; 
O  God  !   my  heart,  is  full  of  jrrief, 
IN'ow  hear  my  prayer  and  send  relief; 
It'thou  hut  whisper,  '  Peace,  lie  still,' 
The  winds  and  waves  obey  thy  will ; 
Thou  art  the  source  of  every  joy: — 

0  God  !  protect  my  sailor  boy  ! 

"  When  storms  arise,  how  can  I  sleep  1 
My  sailor  boy  is  on  the  deep ! 

1  know  thy  never  sleeping  t-y:, 

Great  God  '  is  watching  i'rom  on  high: 
Thou  only  canst  the  storm  control, 
On  this  Ml  rest  my  troubled  soul ; 
Thou  art  the  source  of  every  joy  : — 
O  God  !  protect  my  sailor  boy  ! 

r  Amid  the  tempest's  awful  roar, 
Great  God  !  the  sailor  feels  thy  power  j 
Whrn  ocean  storm.--  shall  rnase  to  ra^e, 
Still  ma\  thy  power  hia  th  nights  engage, 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  15ft 

Prom  every  refuge  may  he  flee 
Till  he  has  made  a  friend  ofniKE: 
Thou  art  the  source  of  evi-ry  joy  : 
O  God  !  protect  rny  sailor  boy  ! 

"  My  Father,  shall  I  ask  in  vain? 
Wilt  thou  my  humble  prayers  disdain  1 

0  no  !  thy  kind  Almighty  arm 

Will  keep  my  sailor  boy  from  harm; 

1  know  thou'lt  hear  my  earnest  plea, 
I'll  leave  my  sailor  boy  with  thee; 

O  God!  thou  source  of  every  joy, 
Protect  and  save  my  sailor  boy  ! 
Charleston,  May  31,  1843.  Sailor's  Migizint. 


INCIDENTS  IN  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

ADDRESSED   TO   SEAMEN.      (Concluded.) 

Lafijette  College.,  August  17,  1834. 
A  FEW  weeks  after  I  joined  the  Mariner's  Church; 
I   shipped,  together  with   two  other   seamen,  on 

board  the  schooner  E. e.  bound  to  Santa  Cruz, 

in  the  West  Indies ;  but  previous  to  signing  the 
articles,  we  requested  the  captain  to  allow  us  time 
for  prayer,  to  which  he  consented,  although  not  a 
professor  of  religion.  On  that  voyage  there  was 
heard  no  cursing  in  the  forecastle,  neither  was 
there  any  rum  drank  there.  I  cannot  say  as  much 
of  the  after  end  of  the  vessel.  The  captain  would 
rip  out  an  oath  sometimes,  and  the  mate  also.  On 
one  occasion  the  captain,  after  having  given  way 
to  his  spleen  in  a  burst  of  profanity,  turned  to  a 
pious  sailor  who  was  standing  at  the  wheel,  and 
remarked  that  he  had  been  enabled  to  leave  off 
swearing,  in  some  measure,  since  we  came  on  board 
his  vessel,'  and  that  he  hoped  to  be  entirely  cured 


160  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE. 

before  he  parted  with  us :  the  same  influence,  1 
trust,  governed  the  remainder  of  the  crew.  As 
soon  as  we  arrived  at  Santa  Cruz,  I  sought  out  the 
church,  and  found  many  of  the  friends  of  Christ. 
who  invited  me  to  bring  my  shipmates  on  shore  to 
visit  them  on  their  plantations,  (for  the  most  of 
them  were  planters,)  and  sent  their  carriage  to  the 
wharf  in  the  evening,  to  convey  us  to  them  as  soon 
as  the  labors  of  the  day  were  over.  I  then  saw 
that  the  sailor  was  respected,  and  longed  for  the 
day  to  arrive,  when  all  the  sons  of  the  Great  Deep 
>shaJ  be  known  in  foreign  lands  as  the  "  Sons  of 
God." 

One  of  the  planters  whom  we  visited,  had  con 
verted  his  still-room  into  a  school-room ;  had  ban 
ished  alchohol  from  his  premises,  and  given  all  his 
slaves  one  day  in  the  week  to  dispose  of  their  pro- 
duce, so  that  they  might  keep  holy  the  Sabbath 
day  to  the  Lord.  He  called  his  slaves  together, 
and  requested  us  to  address  them,  which  we  wil- 
lingly did  for  Christ's  sake.  On  the  whole,  our 
company  was  sought,  rather  than  shunned,  by  the 
most  influential  persons  on  the  Island.  I  have  not 
made  mention  of  this  for  the  purpose  of  taking  the 
glory  to  ourselves ;  but  to  set  forth  the  goodness 
of  God,  as  well  as  to  show  that  the  sailor  will  soon 
be  lifted  up  I'rom  the  level  of  the  brute  creation 
(where  the  intoxicating  bowl  and  the  "strange wo- 
man" have  brought  him),  to  that  of  mediocrity  at 
least.  And  the  sailor's  energetic  spirit  will  not 
suffer  him  to  stop  there,  but  will  cause  him  to  as- 
pire even  higher  among  the  inhabitants  of  the  civ 
ilized  globe.  In  this,  too,  the  mercy  of  our  God 
is  strikingly  manifest,  even  in  the  stretching  of  his 
hand  to  those  who  had  s~)  long  been  neglected  and 
given  up  of  men. 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  161 

While  lying  there,  I  was  deeply  impressed  with 
the  belief,  tbat  it  was  my  duty  to  prepare  for  tha 
holy  ministry.  This,  at  first  sight,  appeared  a  task 
altogether  impossible.  I  had  spent  all  my  money  in 
"  riotous  living,"  and  was  therefore  unwilling  to  in- 
dulge a  hope,  that  I  should  ever  attain  to  so  high 
arid  holy  an  office  ;  still  the  same  feelings  seemed 
to  pervade  my  mind  night  and  day.  and  gave  me 
no  rest.  Sometimes  I  imagined  that  it  was  the 
workings  of  the  evil  one,  making  me  desirous  of 
being  seen  in  the  world,  and  I  prayeJ  the  Lord  to 
drive  such  thoughts  away  from  me,  and  let  them 
perish  where  they  had  their  birth,  unless  they  were 
sent  from  on  high,  to  spur  me  forward  in  my  duty  ; 
and  if  the  latter  was  the  case,  that  he  would  point 
out  a  way  for  the  accomplishment  of  what  appeared 
to  me  so  gigantic  an  undertaking. 

After  s.ome  struggles  on  my  part.  I  came  to  the 
determination  to  adopt  the  following  resolutions, 
viz. :  first,  that  I  would  make  it  the  subject  of 
earnest  prayer ;  and  secondly,  that  I  would  not 
seek  it  myself,  lest  I  should  be  seeking  material  to 
feed  my  own  ambition  and  self-esteem.  I  began 
to  carry  out  these  resolutions  ;  and  on  one  occa- 
sion, after  reading  a  tract  pertaining  somewhat  to 
the  subject  which  had  been  engrossing  my  mind  so 
long,  I  felt  a  powerful  visitation  of  the  Spirit  of 
God.  I  fell  upon  my  knees,  but  was  speechless 
for  some  seconds  at  tlie  thought  of  my  own  uuwor- 
thiucss.  and  God's  abundant  goodness.  At  length 
the  power  of  speech  returned,  and  my  soul  waa 
drawn  out  in  prayer,  after  which  I  arose  from  my 
knees  in  fall  assurance  that  I  should  one  day  be 
permitted  to  stand  between  the  living  and  the  dead, 
and  proclaim  the  glad  news  of  salvation  through  a 
Redeemer.  I  continued  in  prayer  fur  special  guid 
14* 


I(j'2  INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    L  FE. 

ance  in  this  affair  all  the  passage  from  Santa  Crui 
to  Philadelphia,  and  on  my  arrival  I  jumped  into 
the  boat,  and  went  ashore  with  the  captain  be- 
fore the  vessel  had  time  to  haul  into  the  wharf. 
Directly  I  landed,  I  left  the  boat  and  ran  up  to 
the  Sailor's  Home,  and  from  that  to  my  pastor's 
house,  where,  before  twenty  minutes  had  elapsed, 
sufficient  was  said  to  prove  to  me  that  the  way  was 
opened  for  me  to  prepare  for  the  holy  ministry, 
without  any  seeking  on  my  part  whatever.  To 
the  liev.  O.  Douglass,  pastor  of  the  Mariner's 
Church,  Philadelphia,  (through  grace,)  I  am  deeply 
indebted  for  the  privilege  which  I  now  enjoy — • 
even  that  of  preparing  to  become  a  laborer  in  the 
vineyard  of  the  Lord  ;  my  highest  aim  now  is  to 
spend  the  remaining  days  of  my  pilgrimage  on  the 
earth  in  the  service  of  the  Lord,  in  such  a  manner 
RS  he  may  deem  most  subservient  to  the  spreading 
jf  the  Gospel  of  Christ  among  the  long-neglected 
sons  of  the  great  deep. 

Now,  my  readers,  since  you  have  been  shown  in 
this  brief  narrative  of  facts,  a  few  of  the  wondrous 
dealings  of  the  Lord  with  one  of  the  most  unwor- 
thy of  his  rebellious  creatures,  see  if  you  cannot, 
from  the  commencement  of  my  course  until  this 
hour,  trace  the  finger  of  Omnipotence  in  every  step 
that  has  been  taken.  Surely  you  can  !  and  will 
cay  with  me,  "  This  is  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is 
marvellous  in  our  eyes." 

A  few  words  with  you,  and  I  have  done.  Have 
you  found  the  "  pearl  of  great  price  V'  Have  you 
chosen  the  "  good  part  that  cannot  be  takeii  away  <"' 
Do  you  love  the  Saviour,  and  delight  iu  his  glori 
ous  Gospel?  If  you  can  answer  these  ijuestions 
in  the  affirmative,  'tis  well  !  press  towards  the  mark 
foi  the  prize,  bearing  in  mind  that  it  is  at  the  end 


INCIDENTS    IN    A    SAILOR'S    LIFE.  163 

of  the  race.  If  not;  oh.  '-'seek  the  Saviour  new 
while  he  may  be  found  ;  and  call  upon  him  while 
he  is  near  !"  For,  rest  assured  that,  whoever 
you  may  be.  and  whatever  your  occupation  in  this 
world,  you  are  not  excluded  from  the  law  of  God, 
nor,  if  you  break  that  law,  will  you  be  excluded 
from  its  punishment  hereafter. 

Now.  a  word  to  the  sailor  who  is  yet  in  the  gall 
of  bitterness  and  bond  of  iniquity  ;  who  is  still 
tossed  about  on  life's  troubled  ocean,  without  a 
hope  to  buoy  up  his  soul  when  the  final  storm  oi 
God's  wrath  shall  break  upon  our  guilty  world. 

If  this  should  meet  the  eye  of  such  an  one  (as  I 
hope  it  will),  to  him  1  would  say,  Shipmate!  you 
and  I  are  bound  on  the  voyage  of  life  ;  we  are  sail- 
ing fast  to  the  shores  of  eternity,  and  are  daily 
drawing  nearer  to  our  port.  You  have  a  precious 
and  immortal  soul  as  well  as  myself. —  a  soul  that 
must  live  even  after  the  sun  has  refused  to  shed 
his  glorious  light,  and  every  star  in  the  bright  fir- 
mament of  heaven  is  blasted  out.  When  the  things 
of  earth  have  every  one  sunk  into  oblivion,  your 
soul  and  mine  will  both  be  sensitive,  either  of  the 
bliss  of  heaven,  or  the  excruciating  tortures  of  a 
guilty  conscience  in  the  shades  of  endless  woe. 
Which  condition  will  entirely  depend  on  the  course 
they  steer  while  here  in  a  probationary  state. 
Think  you.  that  while  you  keep  your  helm  up,  and 
steer  broad  off  for  the  gulf  of  perdition, — while 
you  continue  to  drive  carelessly  on.  and  let  the 
treacherous  stream  hurry  you  to  the  whirlpool  of 
despair. — while  you  arc  reproaching  and  reviling 
the  more  cautious  mariner,  who.  having  discovered 
his  danger,  and  prudently  hauled  his  wind,  may 
now  be  seen  cautiously  standing  in  for  the  head 
lands  of  hore,  with  the  cross  of  Christ  for  his  guid 


164  INCIDENTS  ij*  A  SAILOR'S  LIFE. 

ing  star,  the  Saviour  for  his  pilot,  and  the  Bibla 
for  his  chart — that  you  can  be  happy?  !Tis  im- 
possible !  Look  around  you,  my  friend,  and  you 
will  find,  that  while  you  are  nearing  destruction's 
dangerous  brink,  some  of  the  very  persons  who 
were  of  your  convoy,  are  even  now  spreading 
the  sails  of  their  affections  to  catch  the  breeze  of 
divine  grace,  that  they  may  be  wafted  towards  the 
haven  of  eternal  rest. 

The  same  privileges  await  you — the  same  breezes 
invite  you  to  those  celestial  abodes  of  everlasting1 
bliss.  Say,  then  !  will  you  any  longer  delay  ?  will 
you  stand  on.  in  spite  of  the  warnings  of  God'? 
word,  and  the  admonitions  of  kind  friends,  and 
make  shipwreck  of  your  precious  and  immortal 
soul,  rather  than  anchor  forever  in  the  calm  ocean 
of  God's  love  'I  If  you  will,  I  beg  you  to  remem- 
ber that,  "  He  that  is  often  reproved,  and  harden- 
eth  his  neck  ;  shall  suddenly  be  destroyed,  and  that 
without  remedy/'  "  The  wicked  shall  be  turned 
into  hell,  and  all  the  nations  that  forget  God." 
Oh,  my  friend  !  take  the  advice  of  one  whose  expe- 
rience has  made  him  acquainted  with  your  ex- 
treme danger.  Oh  !  delay  not  another  moment ; 
but  down  with  your  helm  instantly.  Heave  about 
you  quick,  while  you  have  sea-room ;  for,  if  you 
miss  stays,  your  destruction  will  be  inevitable — you 
must  be  irretrievably  and  irrecoverably  lost.  How 
will  you  decide  ?  Time  speeds  on  his  course,  and 
there  is  but  one  alternative,  heaven  or  hell — hap- 
piness or  woe !  Choose  before  it  be  everlastingly 
too  late.  Oh.  let  me  entreat  you  to  embrace  the 
opportunity  now,  while  the  angels  cf  heaven  are 
waiting  to  convey  the  glad  tidings  to  the  throne, 
that  another  sinner  has  been  reclaimed — that  an- 
other soul  has  been  redeemed  from  the  galling 


w*  PRISONER'S  ADDRESS  TO  HIS  MOTHER.     165 

yoke  of  sin.  I  could  bring  you  a  whole  cargo  of 
reasons  why  you  should  cling  to  the  cross  now 
but  sufficient  has  been  said  already  to  tire  your 
patience,  I  am  afraid.  I  will,  therefore,  close  by 
saying,  if  you  refuse  the  heavenly  message,  and 
are  lost,  you  cannot  say  that  your  blood  is  on  the 
skirts  of  my  garment.  Farewell!  Let  us  "  strive" 
to  meet  each  other  on  the  shores  of  the  heavenly 
Canaan,  where  we  may  dwell  forever  with  our  bles- 
sed Redeemer,  for  his  name's  sake.  Amen. 

A  FOREMAST  HANP 


THE   PRISONER'S   ADDRESS   TO   HIS   MOTHER 

0  I'VE  wandered  far  from  thee,  mother, 

Far  from  our  happy  home ; 
I've  left  tue  lend  that  gave  me  birth, 

In  other  climes  to  roam  ; 
And  Time,  since  then,  has  rolled  his  years, 

And  marked  them  on  my  brow  ; 
Yet  still  I  often  thought  of  thee, — 

I'm  thinking  of  thee  now. 

"  I'm  thinking  of  those  days,  mother, 

When  with  such  earnest  pride, 
You  watched  the  dawnings  of  my  youth, 

And  pressed  me  to  your  side  ; 
Then  love  nad  filled  my  trusting  heart 

With  hopes  of  future  joy, 
And  thy  bright  fancy  honors  wove 

To  deck  thy  '  darling  boy.' 

1  I'm  thinking  on  the  day,  mother, 

I  left  thy  watchful  care, 
When  thy  fond  heart  was  lifted  up 

To  heaven — tfiy  trust  was  there ; 
And  memory  brings  thy  parting  word*, 

\\  hcai  tours  ft- 11  o'er  thy  cheek; 
But  thj  last,  loving,  anxious  look 

Told  uor<  than  words  co'ild  speak. 


!06    IHE  PRISONER'S  ADDRESS  10  ins  MOIEXK. 

'"'  i'm  far  away  from  thee,  mother, 

No  friend  is  near  me  now, 
To  soothe  me  with  a  tender  word, 

Nor  cool  my  burning  brow  ; 
The  dearest  ties  affection  wove 

Are  all  now  torn  from  me  ; 
They  left  me  when  the  trouble  came, 

They  did  not  love  like  thee. 

*  I  would  not  have  thee  know,  mother, 

How  brightest  hopes  decay, — 
The  tempter  with  his  baneful  cup, 

Has  dashed  them  all  away ; 
And  shame  has  left  his  venomed  sting 

To  rack  with  anguish  wild  ! 
'Twould  grieve  thy  tender  breast  to  know 

The  sorrows  of  thy  child  ! 

'•  I'm  lonely  and  forsaken  now, 

Unpitied  and  unblest ; 
Yet  still  T  would  not  have  thee  know 

H  ow  sadly  I'm  distressed  ; 
I  know  thou  wouldst  not  chide  me, 
Thou  wouldst  not  give  me  pain, 
But  cheer  me  with  thy  softest  word*, 
And  bid  me  hope  again. 

"  I  know  thy  tender  heart,  mother, 

Still  beats  as  warm  for  me, 
As  when  I  left  thee  long  ago, 

To  cross  the  broad  blue  sea ; 
And  1  love  thee  just  the  same,  mother. 

And  I  long  to  hear  thee  speak, 
And  feel  again  thy  balmy  breath 

Upon  thy  cure-worn  cheek. 

'•*  But  ah  !  there  is  a  thought,  mother. 

Pervades  my  beating  breast, 
That  thy  free  spirit  may  have  flown 

To  its  eternal  rest ; 
And  as  I  wipe  the  tear  away, 
There  whispers  in  my  ear, 
A  voice  that  speaks  of  heaven  and  rim. 

And  bids  me  seek  Uiee  there ." 
Washington,  Jun  tj,  1847.  C.  EL 


THE    SAILOR    KNEELING    BV    HIS    CHEST.    •    16" 

THE  SAILOR  KNEELING  BY  HIS  CHEST. 

"  THE  captain  of  the  brig  Ceres  related  the  fol- 
lowing interesting  fact.  One  of  the  apprentices 
on  board  of  my  vessel,  a  youth  of  bad  character 
for  swearing  and  profaning  the  name  of  God,  after 
reading  a  tract  called  '  Serious  thoughts  on  Eter- 
nity,' was  observed  several  days  by  the  mate  to  be 
very  thoughtful  and  serious,  and  sighed  at  times 
us  if  something  lay  heavy  on  his  mind.  The  mate 
asked  him  what  caused  him  to  look  so  sorrowful? 

'  Ah  !  Mr.  ,  eternity  !  eternity  !  that  awful 

word  rings  in  my  ears  all  day.  and  all  night  too. 
What  will  become  of  me  in  eternity  ?'  The  mate 
observed,  he  was  but  a  poor  hand  to  speak  to  the 
lad  on  religious  feelings,  being  but  very  little  ac- 
quainted with  them  ;  but  said,  '  You  have  been  a 
•wicked  lad  ;  but  if  you  pray  to  God  he  may  have 
mercy.  Do  your  duty,  and  refrain  from  swearinar ; 
and  read  good  books,  and  particularly  the  Bible.' 
He  would,  after  this,  often  be  seen,  when  ship's 
duty  did  not  interfere,  leaning  over  the  gunwale 
of  the  vessel,  evidently  at  prayer.  The  scoffs  and 
jeers  of  the  men.  on  account  of  his  seriousness  and 
dejection,  and  when  reading  the  Bible,  would  not 
shake  him  from  his  stability. 

"  He  had  a  soul  to  be  saved ;  the  work  was  ol 
God  ;  and  by  the  assistance  of  his  Holy  Spirit,  he 
bore  all.  determined  to  secure  an  earnest  of  a  bliss- 
ful eternity.  On  one  occasion,  seeking  to  avoid  the 
scoffs  of  the  crew,  he  crept,  (as  he  thought,  unper 
ceived.)  down  the  fore-hatch,  and  knelt  down  lean 
ing  over  the  chest  of  one  of  the  men  in  prayer. 
The  man  to  whom  the  chest  belonged,  having  seer 
him.  as  he  said,  go  down  with  a  suspicious  appear 
fcnce,  waited  a  few  seconds,  followed  him,  and  ece 


168          EXTRACT    FROM    A    CAPTA  N  S    DIAHT 

ing  him  by  his  chest,  dragged  him  on  deck,  and, 
with  oaths,  declare.!  he  was  opening  his  chest  tfl 
rob  him.  The  boy  denied  the  accusation.  The 
bustle  this  contest  caused  brought  the  mate  for- 
ward to  inquire  the  reason.  The  man  accused  ; 
the  boy  denied.  The  mate,  feeling  in  favor  of  the 
lad.  and  supposing  some  religious  cause  for  his  be- 
ing  thus  found,  encouraged  him  to  explain.  The 
boy,  bursting  into  tears,  answered, '  I  was  trying  to 
do  what  my  accuser  ought  to  do  ;  /  was  kneeling 
against  his  chest  in  prayer.'  The  man  was  so 
struck  by  the  boy's  manner  of  confession,  and  the 
sincerity  of  his  looks,  that  he  replied  in  a  softened 
tone-,  '  Why  did  you  not  say  so  at  first  ?'  '  Be- 
3ause,'  the  boy  answered,  '  I  thought  you  would 
sneer  and  ridicule  me.'  'No,  far  from  it,  I  will 
never  ridicule  you  again  :  and  will,  as  far  as  I  can, 
prevent  your  being  so.  I  sincerely  believe  you  in- 
nocent ;  and  when  you  pray  again,  remember  me. 
The  boy  continued  to  hold  fast  his  faith  ;  he  stood 
firm  in  his  religious  profession  :  and.  on  his  return 
from  his  voyage,  became  a  member  of  a  Christian 
church  in  the  west  of  England  :  and  to  this  day. 
appears  to  adorn  the  profession  he  makes,  devoting 
his  best  services  to  promote  the  glory  of  God." 
Liverpool. 


EXTRACT  FROM  A  CAPTAIN'S  DIARY. 

"  LEFT  port  on  the  1 9th  of  August.  30th.  Cora, 
menced  social  worship  on  board  in  the  evenings, 
passage  out — passage  homeward,  morning  and  even, 
ing.  On  the  Sabbath  day,  the  morning  and  even- 
ing  sacrifices  were  offered  up,  and  divine  service 


EXTRACT    FROM    A    CAPTAINS    DiARY.  168 

performed  in  the  cabin  in  the  afternoon,  after  the 
usual  manner  on  shore.  In  the  gale  of  the  28tb, 
when  danger  threatened  us  on  every  side,  aud 
death  was  evidently  near  to  us,  our  God  wrought 
wonderfully  for  us,  sparing  our  justly  forfeited 
lives,  with  the  exception  of  one  of  our  crew  ;  teach- 
ing  us  a  solemn  lesson — '  Be  ye  also  ready.' 

"  Sept.  6th. — Was  informed  one  of  the  crew  was 
under  deep  conviction,  and  had  been  in  tears  all 
night.  1  observed  the  next  day  he  appeared 
vei-y  thoughtful,  and  his  mind  seemed  softened 
with  grief. — previous  to  this  he  was  an  awful  pro- 
fane swearer,  and  had  not  heard  a  prayer,  or  been 
inside  a  meeting-house  for  ten  years.  Judged  it 
most  prudent  not  to  be  too  urgent  in  this  affair,  but 
rather  to  wait  the  issue,  bearing  in  mind  the  words 
of  Gamaliel — '  Let  this  work  alone,  if  it  be  of  God, 
it  will  assuredly  stand.'  In  the  evening,  brought 
into  view  the  prodigal  son,  setting  forth  the  ex- 
ceeding love  and  tender  compassion  of  God  our 
Saviour  towards  perishing  sinners,  who  no  sooner 
perceives  the  least  relenting  on  the  sinner's  part, 
but  he  runs  to  meet  him.  The  next  day  com- 
mented on  first  part  of  Luke,  15th,  and  thus  con- 
tinued from  time  to  time,  introducing  some  por- 
tions of  Scripture,  as  I  thought  (by  the  grace  of 
God  assisting),  might  be  most  proper  on  this  oc- 
casion. 

"  Sept.  9th. — Opened  a  conference  or  free-meet- 
ing to  be  continued  weekly,  for  all  who  chose  to  take 
part  in  the  exercises.  Acts  13th,  was  read  as  an 
introduction,  showing  the  efficacy  of  prayer  for  Pe- 
ter while  in  prison  :  offered  a  petition  to  the  throne 
of  grace,  and  left  the  meeting  open.  One  old 
sailor,  who  owned  aud  acknowledged  the  brig  to 
have  been  his  spiritual  birth-place,  spoke  freely  of 
15 


170          EXTRACT    FROM    A    CAPTAIN'S    DIARY. 

the  love  of  God  and  of  his  hope  in  Christ,  only  1* 
meriting  how  unprofitable  a  servant  he  had  been, 
and  how  barren  he  still  was  ;  but  hoped  that  the  in- 
stitution of  this  meeting  would  be  profitable  to  his 
eoul.  Another  sailor  then  rose  and  spoke  of  the 
goodness  of  God  in  taking  his  feet  from  the  horrible 
pit,  and  miry  clay,  and  placing  them  upon  the  Rock 
Clirist — praised  his  holy  name  for  giving  him  so 
comfortable  an  assurance  of  his  acceptance  in  Christ, 
and  more  particularly  for  casting  his  lot  in  a  vessel 
where  these  things  were  attended  to.  One  of  the 
officers  next  rose,  rejoicing  in  hope,  praising  God 
for  his  goodness  to  one  who  had  resisted  the  influ- 
ence of  the  Spirit  with  all  his  might,  but  was  now 
forced  to  bow  to  the  sceptre  of  King  Jesus : — he 
then  concluded  with  prayer.  The  hymn,  '  Lord 
dismiss  us  with  thy  blessing,'  was  then  sung,  and 
the  meeting  closed  with  the  apostolic  benediction. 
The  meeting  to  me  was  highly  interesting,  and 
there  appeared  a  very  great  attention  at  all  times 
to  the  religious  exercises.  As  it  respects  the  sailor 
under  conviction,  I  inquired  of  one  of  his  ship- 
mates (a  pious  sailor)  what  was  his  opinion  as  to 
his  conduct  in  private  :  he  answered  me  that  the 
man  seemed  to  be  wrestling  with  God  in  prayer 
for  mercy.  Doddridge's  '  Rise  and  Progress  of 
Religion  in  the  Soul.'  was  given  him  to  read,  which 
he  read  through  ;  a  Bible  and  Seaman's  Devotional 
Assistant  were  given  him,  and  he  employed  all  his 
spare  moments  in  searching  the  Scriptures  of  truth. 
Thus  far  he  has  continued  steadfast,  and  appears 
to  have  taken  a  decided  stand  in  the  cause  and  in- 
terest of  the  blessed  Redeemer.  Our  conference 
meetings  were  hailed  with  delight,  and  were  pecul- 
iarly interesting  our  Sabbaths  were  quiet  Sab 
baths,  aud  it  did  appear  as  if  the  Lord  frequently 


THE    FIRST    BETHEL    ON     THE    LAKES.  171 

met  -with  us  and  smiled  upon  our  feeble  efforts. 
The  signs  of  the  times  indicate  that  the  Lord  has 
already  commenced  a  great  work  among  us ;  hia 
Spirit  is  striving  with  us,  and  may  we  not  humbly 
rely  on  his  promise,  that  in  due  time  the  abun 
dance  of  the  sea  shall  be  converted  unto  God  ?" 

'•  E'er  since  by  faith  I  saw  the  stream 

Thy  flowing  wounds  supply, 
Redeeming  love,  has  been  my  theme, 
And  shall  be  when  I  die." 

T.  S. 


THE  FIRST  BETHEL  ON  THE  LAKES. 

FROM   THE   LOG-BOOK   OF   ONE    WHO  HAS   BEEN  A  SAILOU. 

"  IT  was  a  beautiful  autumnal  Sabbath  morn,  in 
1830 — not  a  cloud  moved  across  the  blue  vault  of 
heaven, — the  tranquil  waters  of  Ontario  lay  un- 
dimpled  and  unmoved,  for  all  was  calm  and  peace- 
ful Sweet  was  the  silence  of  that  holy  morning 
— it  was  a  type  of  that  heavenly  rest ! 

"  The  sun  came  out  of  his  chamber  in  the  east, 
rejoicing  as  a  bridegroom  to  run  his  race,  and  as  is 
customary  on  shipboard,  the  colors  of  the  shipping 
were  hoisted  at  that  hour.  What  is  that  fl,ag  yon- 
der ?  It  bears  a  strange  emblem  !  Inquiries  were 
made  by  many,  but  few  could  satisfactorily  answer. 
The  Sabbath-school  children  observed  it  as  they 
went  to  their  morning  school,  and  wondered.  It 
was  a  novel  thing  to  all,  and  all  were  surprised. 
It  was  not  worn  by  a  stranger's  vessel.  She  wat> 
veil  known.  The  silent  air  refused  also  to  lift  the 
folds  of  the  flag,  and  what  might  be  upon  it  was 
not  fully  seen.  But  at  length  the  gentle  breeze 
threw  out  the  beautiful  banner.  It  bore  on  its 


172  A    CHRISTIAN. 

chaste  white  ground  a  dove,  having  in  its  mouth,  ai 
Scripture  beautifully  says, '  an  olive  leaf  p'ncfad  off} 
and  the  cheering  inscription,  k  BETHEL  !'  How 
eweet  is  the  retrospect  of  that  morning.  How 
good  God  was  to  let  that  happv  ensign  be  unfurled 
under  such  circumstances.  How  did  the  hep.rt^-wsA 
with  hope  of  better  times,  and  how  delightful  it 
was  to  go  away  and  thank  the  God  of  Bethel  for 
such  a  token  of  mercy  ! 

'•  The  day  passed  on,  and  just  at  eventide  the 
multitude  flocked  to  the  vessel's  side.  Three 
schooners  were  laid  abreast  of  tach  other,  which, 
with  the  adjacent  extensive  wharf,  were  crowded 
with  persons  of  all  ages.  A  solemn  pause  ensued  ! 
Angels  looked  down,  and  God  looked  down,  and  the 
hearts  of  the  pious  looked  up,  and  met  their  gaze 
by  faith.  The  silence  was  broken  by  that  cheer- 
ing seamen's  hymn,  each  stanza  ending  with 

'  Sailor !  there's  Iwpe  for  the.' 

The  strains  passed  away,  but  not  without  effect, 
for  they  called  tears  to  many  a  furrowed  cheek  of 
landsman  and  seaman.  Prayer  was  offered  and 
exhortation  given,  and  the  Bethel  mooting  on 
board  'the  Winnebago' — the.  first  on  the  western  in- 
land waters — has  never  been  forgotten.  Great 
mercies  have  since  descended  upon  seamen,  and 
well  may  it  be  said  of  Lake  Ontario — ;  The  voice  of 
t/ie  Lord  is  upon  the  waters?  I.  T.  M." 


A  CHRISTIAN. 

A  CHRISTIAN  is  one  who  is  snatched  as  a  brand 
from  the  burning  the  flames  of  hell  are  quenched 


A  SAILOR'S  PRAYE?..  173 

in  the  Redeemer's  blood  :  he  is  grafted  into  tke 
living  vine  :  because  it  lives,  he  lives  also,  deriving 
from  the  union  strength  and  nourishment ;  he  be- 
comes a  fruitful  bough  by  the  wells  of  salvation, 
whose  branches,  thick  with  clusters  of  good  fruits, 
adorn  the  wall  of  God's  house. — Are  you,  reader, 
a  fruitful  branch  in  this  living  vine  ?  do  you  know 
what  this  union  means  1  if  so,  happy  are  you. 
Study  to  show  forth  the  praises  of  Him  who  hath 
thus  had  mercy  on  you  ;  but  remember,  that  on 
those  who  know  not  the  nature  of  this  union,  God 
will  rain  storms,  fire  and  brimstone,  and  a  horrible 
tempest — this  shall  be  the  portion  of  their  cup. 
But,  oh !  fly  sinner,  fly  to  the  Lamb  of  God ;  he 
takoth  away  the  sin  of  the  world.  Come  guilty, 
come  neeay,  come  just  as  you  are.  '  All  the  fitnesa 
he  requireth,  is  to  feel  your  need  of  him  !'  Come 
now  in  this  accepted  time,  and  be  assured  he  will 
«  nowise  cast  you  out." 


A    SAILOR'S   PRAYER. 

"  FATHKR,  the  storm  is  loud  ! 

No  light  beams  on  our  way, 
Save  when  o'er  yonder  cloud 

The  fearful  lightnings  play. 
The  frowning  heavens  above ! 

The  yawning  deeps  helow  ! 
Far,  FAR  are  those  wo  Jove; 

Where  can  the  sailor  go  1 

u  Father,  to  thce  we  turn ! 

God  of  the  earth  and  sea  ! 
When  sad  our  bosoms  yearn, 

Our  fears  are  known  to  theo! 
Oh  !  let  thine  eye  of  love 

Beam  through  the  aogry  storm, 
And  hope  sent  from  above, 
Appear  in  dove-like  form ! 
15* 


174  THE    UNSATISFYING    NATTTRX 

11  Thy  breath  can  'calm  the  sea, 

Thy  voice,  the  tempest's  rage, 
So  can  thy  PKACE  within 

Our  rising;  fears  assuage. 
Father,  to  thee  we  cry  ! 

God  >f  the  earth  and  sea  ! 
No  other  aid  is  nigh — 

Our  hopes  repose  on  thee !" 
C4r«.  Gfa.  2.  M  A_ 


THE  UNSATISFYING  NATURE  OF  WORLDLY  GOOD. 

"Vanity  of  vanities  saith  the  preacher,  vanity  of  vanities;  all  ii 
vanity.— ECCLKS.  i.  2. 

"  ECCLESIASTES  is  the  Greek  title  of  the  book  ; 
the  title  which  it  bears  in  the  Septuagint.  It  sig- 
nifies, THE  PREACHER.  The  Hebrew  word  for 
which  it  is  used,  means,  one  who  assembles,  or 
gathers  the  people  together ;  ard  the  translation 
of  it  by  the  term  Ecdesiaslcs.  shows  that  the  Greek 
translators  understood  the  object  of  the  assem- 
bling to  be,  the  communication  of  public  instruc- 
tion. 

"  The  preacher  was  the  '  Son  of  David.'  To 
him  had  been  addressed,  by  his  pious  and  affec- 
tionate father,  the  solemn  charge,  equally  melting 
and  alarming  :  '  And  thou,  Solomon  my  son,  know 
thou  the  God  of  thy  father,  and  serve  him  with  a 
perfect  heart,  and  with  a  willing  mind  ;  for  the 
Lord  searcheth  all  hearts,  and  understandeth  all 
the  imaginations  of  the  thoughts  :  If  thou  seek 
him  he  will  be  found  of  thee  :  but  if  thou  forsake 
him,  he  will  cast  thee  ofl'  forever.1  It  was  in  oppo- 
sition to  this  paternal  counsel  that  lie  had  gone 
astray ;  and  possibly  the  tender  recollection  of  it, 
brought  home  to  the  heart  by  the  events  of  I'rovi 


OF    WORLDLY    GOOD.  175 

<Jfc.ee.  might  be  part  of  the  means  of '  restoring  hia 
soul,  and  making  him  to  walk  again  in  the  paths 
of  righteousness.' 

"  '  The  preacher'  was  also  '  King  of  Jerusalem, 
It  was  the  God  of  Israel  who  had  chosen  and  ex- 
alted him  to  this  dignity  :  but  he  had  been  guilty 
of  forgetting  and  ill-requiting  the  Author  of  his 
greatness.  As  '  King  of  Jerusalem'  he  was  placed 
in  a  situation,  which  brought  within  his  reach 
'  whatsoever  his  soul  lusted  after.'  and  thus  enabled 
him,  in  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  and  on 
the  most  extensive  scale,  to  try  his  infatuated  ex- 
periments on  human  happiness  ; — experiments,  of 
which  the  great  general  result  is  expressed,  with 
comprehensive  brevity,  and  deep-felt  emphasis,  in 
the  language  already  quoted, — 

1  Vanity  of  vanities,  sait/t  the  preacher,  vanity  of 
vanities  ;  all  is  vanity.' 

"  This  is  the  text  of  the  preacher's  sermon  ,  the 
leading  proposition,  which  it  is  his  object  to  illus- 
trate and  to  establish,  in  the  whole  of  the  subse- 
quent part  of  this  book, — of  which  he  never  loses 
sight ;  which  meets  us,  in  the  way  of  direct  allu- 
sion, at  every  step  and  turn  of  the  progress  of  hia 
argnment. 

"  To  enter  into  any  detached  and  general  illus- 
tration of  this  verse,  would,  therefore,  be  to  antici- 
pate the  contents  of  the  book.  The  following  re- 
marks may  be  worthy  of  attention  : — 

"  In  the  first  plac,e..  It  is  to  be  considered  as  the 
affecting  result  of  Solomon's  own  experience.  He 
had  entered  into  the  spirit  of  universal  inquiry, 
'  Who  will  show  us  any  good?'  and  had  made  the 
trial  of  the  various  sources  of  worldly  happiness. 
He  had  repaired  in  person  to  the  different  springs, 
detei  mined  to  take  nothing  upon  the  reported  ex 


176  THE    UNSATISFYING    NATURE 

perience  of  others,  but  to  taste  the  waters  for  him. 
self.  lie  had  drunk  freely  of  them  all ;  and  in 
this  treatise,  he  describes  their  respective  proper* 
ties  and  virtues. — The  book  might,  therefore,  with 
sufficient  appropriateness,  be  entitled  '  THE  EXPE- 
RiENCE  OF  SOLOMON.' 

"  Secondly.  We  are  not  to  understand  it  as  the 
language  of  a  mind  soured  and  fretted  by  dis- 
appointment,— the  verdict  of  a  morose  and  discon- 
tented cynic,  the  incessant  frustration  of  whose 
hopes  and  desires  had  made  him  renounce  the 
world  in  disgust,  while  his  heart  was  yet  un- 
changed, and  continued  secretly  to  hanker  after  the 
same  enjoyments ;  or  of  a  wasted  sensualist,  who, 
having  run  his  career  of  pleasure,  felt  himself  in 
capable  of  any  longer  actually  enjoying  what  .still, 
however,  engrossed  his  peevish  and  unavailing 
wishes  ;  but  we  are  to  regard  it  as  the  conclusion 
come  to  by  one  who  had  felt  the  bittt  mess  of  a 
course  of  sin,  and  the  emptiness  of  this  world's 
joys,  and  having  been  reclaimed  from  the  '  error  of 
his  way,'  having  renounced  and  wept  over  his  fol- 
lies, was  more  than  ever  satisfied  that  the  'fear  ol 
the  Lord  is  wisdom,'  and  that  '  the  ways  of  wisd<  m 
are  the  only  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  her  paths 
alone  the  paths  of  peace.' 

"  Thirdly.  Neither  must  we  conceive  him  to  af- 
firm, in  these  words,  that  there  is  no  good  whatever, 
no  kind  of  enjoyment,  no  degree  of  happiness,  to 
be  derived  from  the  things  of  the  world,  when 
they  are  kept  in  their  own  place,  estimated  on 
right  principles,  and  used  in  a  proper  manner. — 
Sentiments  widely  different  from  any  thing  so  as- 
cetic and  enthusiastic  as  this,  will  repeatedly  come 
in  our  way  in  the  course  of  the  book. — The  words 
beforo  us  are  to  be  interpreted  of  every  thing  in 


OF    "WORLDLY    GOOD.  177 

this  world  when  pursued  as  the  portion  of  him  who 
seeks  it, — when  considered  as  constitutiiig  the  hap- 
piness of  a  rational,  immortal,  and  accountable  be- 
ing. His  verdict  is,  that  to  such  a  creature  they 
can  yield,  by  themselves,  no  genuine  and  worthy 
satisfaction  ;  and  that,  whilst  they  are,  in  their 
own  nature,  unsatisfying  even  in  this  world,  they 
are  worse,  infinitely  worse  than  profitless,  in  the 
world  to  come.  On  this  ground  it  is.  that  he  prp- 
nounces  them  vanity  ; — he  had  weighed  them  all 
in  the  balances,  and  had  found  them  wanting. 

"  Fourthly  The  peculiar  emphasis  may  be  re- 
marked with  which  this  verdict  is  expressed.  He 
does  not  merely  say,  all  things  are  vain : — but '  all 
is  vanity;' — vanity  itself,  and  vanity  of  vanities; 
that  is,  the  greatest  vanity, — sheer,  perfect  vanity. 
— And  he  doubles  the  emphatic  asseveration, '  Van- 
ity of  vanities  :  vanity  of  vanities  :  all  is  vanity.' — 
This  shows,  first,  the  strength  of  the  impression 
on  hi.s  own  mind.  It  is  not  the  language  of  a 
judgment  hesitating  between  two  opinions,  or  of  a 
heart  lingering  between  opposite  desires  ;  but  of  a 
mind  thoroughly  made  up,  of  a  heart  loathing 
itself  for  having  ever  for  a  moment  yielded  to  a 
different  sentiment,  of  decided  conviction,  of  pow- 
erful experimental  feeling. — It  was  a  lesson  which 
he  himself  had  learned  by  the  bitterest  experience  ; 
and  he  is  anxious  to  prevent  others  from  learning 
it  in  the  same  way.  He  wishes  them  to  take  his 
word  for  it ;  not  to  venture  after  him  in  a  repeti- 
tion of  the  sad  experiments  on  which  this  conclu- 
sion was  founded  :  bat  to  enter  directly  on  another 
course  ;  to  seek  immediately  and  earnestly  a  better 
portion, — even  the  '  peace  of  them  that  love  God'a 
law,' — the  '  life'  that  lies  in  the  '  Divine  favor.'—* 
th«»  joys  and  the  hopes  of  true  religion. 


l8  THE    UNSATISFYING    NATUR.1 

"  They  are  the  best  qualified  to  pronounce  on 
the  vanity  and  emptiness  of  the  world,  who  have 
themselves  tried  it  in  all  its  forms  and  modes  of 
enjoyment.  Solomon  made  the  experiment,  and 
he  'found  it  wanting.'  When,  through  Divine 
mercy,  he  '  came  to  himself,'  he  renounced  the 
world,  as  '  vanity,  and  a  thing  of  nought.'  With 
penitential  shame  and  sorrow,  he  returned  to  God, 
from  whom  he  had  so  miserably  revolted, — even  to 
'  the  fountain  of  living  waters.' — and  found  Him  an 
all-satisfying  portion,  peace  and  rest,  and  '  fulness 
of  joy,' — and,  in  the  keeping  of  his  command- 
ments. '  a  great  reward  ;'  and  such  has  been  the 
experience,  the  feelingly-recorded  experience,  of 
many  a  one  besides  the  royal  preacher.  The  in- 
sufficiency and  vanity,  indeed,  of  earthly  things,  as 
the  portion  of  an  intellectual,  moral,  and  immortal 
being,  ought  to  be  held  as  a  self-evident  truth,  un- 
susceptible of  controversy,  and  requiring  no  proof. 
Yet,  alas !  what  cause  have  we  to  remark  in  the 
next  place  ;  What  an  affecting  evidence  it  is  of  the 
infatuation  and  depravity  of  mankind,  that  neither 
the  plainness  of  the  truth,  nor  the  uniformity  of 
the  experience  of  successive  generations,  produces 
any  alteration  whatever  on  their  general  conduct. 
Men  who  have  made  trial  of  the  world,  and  have 
afterwards  turned  from  it  unto  God,  have  attested, 
from  their  personal  experience,  its  universal  vanity. 
and,  at  the  same  time,  the  substantial  and  sat- 
isfactory excellence  of  the  blessings  they  have 
chosen  in  its  stead  ; — and  many  a  time  from  others 
have  the  fenrful  solemnities  of  a  death-bed,  and  a 
near  view  of  eternity,  drawn  forth  the  reluctant 
confession  of  the  same  truth  ;  a  truth  unheeded  ic 
the  midst  of  life,  and  business,  and  prosperity,  but 
brought  home  to  the  mind  with  dreadful  certainty 


OF    WORLDLY    GOOD.  179 

when  death  has  placed  the  sinner  on  the  verge  of 
the  world  to  come.  Yet,  in  despite  of  all  this, 
men  continue  to  pursue  the  same  course.  They 
persist  in  following  the  world  with  all  avidity,  un- 
der one  or  other  of  its  various  forms  of  falsely-prom 
ised  enjoyments  ;  just  as  if  no  testimony  of  its  van- 
ity existed  in  the  experience  of  others,  in  the  con- 
curring verdict  of  their  own  consciences,  in  the 
word,  or  in  the  providence  of  God.  '  0  that  men 
were  wise  ;  that  they  understood  these  things  ;  that 
they  would  consider  their  latter  end  !'  Remember 
ye  infatuated  votaries  of  the  world,  the  solemn 
hour  is  fast  approaching,  when  you  must  have  done 
with  time,  and  all  its  passing  concerns.  That 
hour  will  infallibly  awaken  you,  if  you  are  not  hap- 
pily awakened  earlier,  to  an  appalling  conviction 
of  the  truth  which  has  now,  and  so  often,  been 
urged  upon  your  timely  consideration.  The  special 
hand  of  Death  will  then  write,  in  dark  but  too  leg- 
ible characters,  on  every  thing  from  which  you 
have  been  seeking  pour  happiness,  '  Vanity  of  van 
ities  ;  vanity  of  vanities  ;  ALL  is  VANITY.' — 0  then 
be  wise  in  time.  You  are  in  quest  of  what  never 
has  been  and  never  can  be  found  from  the  sources 
to  which  you  are  repairing  for  it.  The  search  for 
happiness  amongst  '  the  things  of  this  world,'  has 
been,  shall  be,  must  be.  a  fruitless  labor.  It  is  the 
toil 

1  Of  dropping  buckets  into  empty  wells, 
And  growing  old  in  drawing  nothing  up.' 

"  To  you  is  the  divine  invitation  addressed,  and 
to  all  who  are  feeling  the  thirst  of  nature  for  satis 
factory  enjoyment : — •'  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth, 
come  ye  to  the  waters  ;  and  he  that  hath  no  money ; 
co'ue  ye,  buy  and  eat ;  yea  come,  buy  wiiie  and 


180       UNSATISFYING    NATURE    OF    WORLDLY    GOOD. 

milk,  without  money  and  without  price  Where- 
fore  do  ye  spend  money  for  that  which  satisfieth 
not  ?  Hearken  diligently  unto  me.  tind  eat  ye  that 
which  is  good,  and  let  your  soul  delight  itself  in 
fatness.  Incline  your  ear,  and  come  unto  me : 
hear,  and  your  soul  shall  live  '  This  expostulation 
addressed  to  you  by  the  God  of  heaven  in  infinite 
condescension  and  kindness,  is  recommended  to 
your  attention  and  obedience  by  the  impressive  ap- 
peal of  the  Saviour  of  sinful  men  ; — '  For.  what  if> 
a  man  profited,  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world, 
and  lose  his  own  soul '?  For  the  Son  of  Man  shall 
come  in  the  glory  of  his  Father,  and  with  his  an 
gels  ;  and  then  shall  he  reward  every  man  accord 
ing  to  his  works.'  '  What  profit '  shall  a  man 
tken  have, '  of  all  his  labor  which  he  hath  taken  un 
der  the  sun  T  The  favor  of  God ; — the  love  of 
Christ ; — the  blessing  of  Heaven,  mingling  with 
all  the  good  and  evil  of  life,  enhancing  the  one, 
and  sweetening  and  sanctifying  the  other  ;  the  '  ex 
ceeding  great  and  precious  promises'  of  '  the  life 
that  now  is,  and  of  that  which  is  to  come,' — the 
faith  of  which  inspires  k  the  peace  which  passetb 
all  understanding  ;' — the  spiritual  joy  of  '  fellow- 
ship with  the  Father,  and  his  Son  Jesus  Christ,1 
and  with  the  children  of  God.  the  excellent  of  the 
earth  ; — and  the  blessed  hope  of  eternal  life, — of 
glory  and  honor,  and  immortality  : — these  are  sour- 
ces of  felicity,  worthy  of  your  rational  and  immor 
tal  natures,  pure  and  dignified,  substantial  and  ever- 
lasting. Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ;  com* 
to  God  in  his  name  : — accept  the  mercy  offered, 
through  his  mediation,  in  the  Gospel :  and  all  these 
blessings,  in  time  and  eternity  shall  be  yours 
Warcttaw  on 


UCSB  LIBRARY 


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